


Child of the Hunt: The Journey Begins

by Alexis_Black



Series: Child of the Hunt Series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: HPFT, Hogwarts Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-31 20:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 73,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6485998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Black/pseuds/Alexis_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the destruction of the American Magical Academy forces Alex to flee to Hogwarts for protection, she learns that some secrets can kill and some secrets are worth dying for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In a New York Minute (Prologue)

  
  


 Sunday, September 8, 1995

 

  


_“Avada Kedavra!”_  
  
_The woman collapsed in a boneless heap to the ground silently, long ebony hair covering her aristocratic features. A slender wand made of elm rolled from her lifeless hand. Overhead a smoky green skull cast an eerie glow across the sky, bathing the black tattoo on her pale and still forearm._  
  
Alex pushed the terrible memory out of her mind, focusing instead on the passengers boarding British Airways flight BA003 bound to London, England. Leaning back against the window, she pulled her knees to her chest and eyed her fellow the flight attendant warily. The words of the killing curse chased themselves relentlessly around her brain, circling her mind like the carven wolf-bone bracelet dangling around her wrist.  
  
Three hundred miles between her and danger, and her shoulders still were hunched with tension. She was wound tighter than the strings on her violin, lost to her in the destruction she had left behind. Hidden beneath her leather jacket, she gripped her wand.  
  
_If only I could just Apparate to England,_ she thought for the hundredth time, but it was not possible. Alex was only sixteen and while the courts had declared her legally emancipated over the summer, she had not yet been trained. Apparating internationally was dangerous in itself, but turning to the U.S. Bureau of Magic and the Supernatural was not an option, either. The issue wasn’t that they didn’t have Portkeys to England; they did. The problem was that the magical governing authority would have locked her in an interrogation room for Merlin knew how long once they discovered she was one of the few people who had witnessed the American Magical Academy’s destruction.  
  
Instead, she was stuck on a plane, wondering if somehow the dark wizards would find her before the second leg of the journey began. Alex had recognized them immediately in the Portland airport terminal, despite never having seen their faces during the attack. They had since discarded their masks, but how many people dressed in dark robes roamed Portland International Jetport? Wizards and witches in the U.S. had long forgone old-fashioned robes except on the most formal of occasions, and even then, she doubted they’d appear so openly in the general public. Trench coats were _de rigueur_.  
  
Her pursuers weren’t American wizards. Their voices carried the same accent she had grown up hearing from her mostly-absent mother’s lips. Even more telling was the distinctive skull and snake mark they proudly bore on their forearms, same as her mother’s.  
  
What had clinched it, though, was that voice. The one whose echoes she couldn’t stop from bouncing around the confines of her mind. Cruel, heartless, and at odds with its sickeningly sweet lilt. Hours earlier, that voice had screamed obscenities before torturing and killing her mother; in the Portland airport, Alex had heard it chillingly command the other wizards to search for the young witch.  
  
It had been a wonder that no one had taken interest in the oddly robed group. Then again, disinterest and blindness were trademarks in most city inhabitants. As she had slipped through the crowds, Alex overheard the mutterings from tourists about renaissance festivals and nearby movie filmings. She’d shuddered to think what might have happened if any Mundanes had approached the group. “Death Eaters,” her mother had called them.  
  
When the dark wizards had split up, Alex had snuck into a ladies’ restroom. The Polyjuice Potion her mother had coaxed her into drinking had worn off sometime in her frantic flight from her school, yet her pursuers had still managed to track her to the airport.  
  
_There can only be one reason for that,_ she’d thought as she had begun her search. As she had suspected, a small tracer charm had been tangled in the back of her hair. It had been all but invisible. With trembling fingers, Alex had pulled off the small strings of magic resembling like a spider’s web and stared at it briefly.  
  
Leaving it in the bathroom would have only served to alert the dark wizards that she was onto them. On the other hand, she could hardly have walked around with it either. Fate chose to intervene at that moment in the form of an elderly blind woman walking in with her eye-seeing dog. Alex had flicked the tracer charm on the black Labrador in a flash of inspiration. She had hoped her actions would confuse matters, particularly if anyone had seen her transform into a wolf. Even if they hadn’t, finding the tracer on a dog would buy her time.  
  
Despite her relief, Alex could not have helped but to feel a moment of apprehension. She might have slipped from the dark wizards’ grasp with the tracer charm off of her person, but at what cost? How would they react to finding it on the eye-seeing dog of a blind, Mundane woman? She had tendered a brief prayer to the heavens and then had pushed the thought to the back of her mind as the blind woman had left the restroom.  
  
Alone in a closed stall, Alex had quickly reviewed the events once more. The Polyjuice Potion had made her appear as Lori Cahill, a fellow student she had seen briefly on campus just hours ago. She should be safe.  
  
_They can’t track me, but what if they saw my face when I first arrived on campus before I took the potion? Even without the tracer, if they saw me then…_  
  
Alex had given in to the niggling voice of paranoia and cast a few cosmetic spells on herself. A bright auburn sprouted from the roots to replace her naturally black hair, and her eyes morphed from grey to green. A quick change of clothes from her messenger bag and Alex had left the restroom looking like a completely different person. Neither the dark wizards nor the blind woman were anywhere in sight as she made her way to her gate.  
  
Thankfully the flight from Portland to JFK in New York had passed without event, as had her change in airplanes. Oddly that served only to make her even more unsettled. Now she sat there for what felt like an eternity before the massive engines rumbled to life. The safety belt sign turned on with a soft chime and the stewardess began her flight safety speech as the plane taxied forever. Finally, it began hurtling down the runway and they were airborne, once again flying faster than any broom ever could.  
  
Alex looked out the window as the plane banked and headed northeast. She watched the lights of New York City shrink in the distance. Only once they had cleared the layer of clouds and were flying above a billowy white sea of mist did Alex allow herself to relax, pocketing her wand and pulling out her radio walkman. The soothing sounds of Enya filled her ears. Alex closed her eyes and thought back to her life before she found herself hunted and on the run from the followers of a dark wizard long thought dead.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from “New York Minute”, Don Henley, The End of Innocence
> 
> Enya, born Eithne Ní Bhraonáin, is an Irish singer.
> 
> This tale is a re-write of a previous WIP by the same name, Child of the Hunt. In its previous incarnation, a number of betas laid their hands on it. Whenever possible I will include the name of my former betas out of respect. Credit here goes to daylightisdying.
> 
> And now, so many thanks to my current and returning beta narcissablack for once again taking on this project after my six-year hiatus. You have the patience of a saint and the uncanny ability to wield a beta’ing quill with the precision of a scalpel. I can’t begin to say how thrilled I was when I read your response to my initial PM: ‘Are you asking me to dance, mo rún?’
> 
> Story banner by katharos @ TDA


	2. Welcome to My Life

Saturday, September 7, 1995

 

  
Alexis Hawks Talon cruised out of the tree line on her motorcycle and approached the main gates of the American Magical Academy. On either side of the sentinel elm trees that stood as the living gates to the school were carved statues of grizzly bears, standing erect. Fierce expressions graced their granite faces.  
  
“Hey there, Beorn,” she called out to the leftmost bear that balanced a glowing wooden ball on its right paw. Tradition dictated that all returning students greet Beorn or risk a year of bad luck. Many students insisted on patting his stony leg in reassurance, but Alex simply sketched a salute as she zoomed down the main gravel road.  
  
It was twilight, her favorite time of day. Neither fully day nor truly night, it held a mystical potential that made her blood sing. A handful of fireflies danced above the school grounds like earthbound stars mimicking those just starting to sparkle in the heavens above.  
  
The American Magical Academy, or AMA as it was referred to by all, was nestled on an island in the Atlantic off the northern coast of Maine. The churning waves and unpredictable winds that swirled just offshore easily explained why the island was known as Storm Haven Isle. Mundanes did not know of its existence; their ships were guided around it by tides bound with magic. Even birds avoided it at all costs.  
  
The island was readily accessible by individuals very experienced at riding brooms in adverse conditions or those who had successfully passed Apparation training. Otherwise, there was a permanent Portkey hidden behind Old Nabbie’s Tavern on the mainland. Merrymount Landing, the local wizarding village, was the congregation spot for all incoming students as well as serving as the weekend hangout for seniors. A quick glass of Nabbie’s Portkey Punch, with its proprietary infusion of fluxweed, dittany and ginger, and students arrived at the school grounds without any signs of Portkey-sickness. A twin Portkey at the west end of the island provided transport back to the village.  
  
Alex sighed heavily behind her helmet’s face shield as she ran her tongue over her lips yet again. _Ugh! The new cook at Nabbie’s has a heavy hand. A little too much ginger in that batch. Someone needs to give them a few pointers._  
  
The strong taste of the punch could only momentarily distract Alex from the happiness of returning to her school after the summer holidays. Quite simply, Alex loved being at AMA. She knew every nook and cranny of its buildings, with their soaring windows and modern architecture. With the exception of the massive elm tree at the north end of the island, she had explored all of the school’s secrets; her feet had run down every trail that meandered through its wind-swept boundaries in both human and wolf form. AMA was more than just a school; it was her home. She had lived full time on the campus ever since her first year. In a few days, Alex would start her sixth.  
  
 _A junior. And next year, a senior._  
  
She guided her motorcycle down the gravel road around the large Student Commons building, home to the campus cafeteria, the indoor pool, and several fraternities and sororities; the latter two were exclusively for upperclassmen. Then she continued to the east side of the campus where she pulled into the tiny lot that lay behind the boys’ dormitory designated for junior and senior students.  
  
Only a handful of instructors and students used motorized transportation. Rust was inevitable on the island unless properly protected with magic, but the real reason was logistics. The Portkey could handle something like a motorcycle well enough; a car, not so much.  
  
The upper school girls’ dormitory was directly across a small lawn from the boys’ and was her destination. Alex cut off the engine, pulled off her helmet and sat back once the kickstand was engaged. The salty breeze teased locks of her long dark hair; she pulled it securely into a ponytail before slipping off her jacket.  
  
This had been her first summer away from AMA. Alex had spent almost the entire break working as a counselor at a summer camp for young wizard children from well-to-do families in Montreal and the eastern Canadian region. Although the distance had not been great, she had missed AMA something fierce.  
  
Alex slipped off the motorcycle and admired it under the glow of the nearby lampposts. “Sweet.” The word slipped softly from her lips as she caressed the tank. Sleek, grey and chrome against shiny black, and built for speed. It was like flying but without having to leave the ground, something that in her opinion was highly overrated. She had purchased it from Professor Alexander Jordan, her Potions instructor, at the end of the last school year. He had upgraded to a newer model and had offered the motorcycle to Alex for less than half the original price. It was a deal she could not refuse, especially with its modified gas tank charmed to always be full.  
  
Alex mentally tallied her summer income and the modest inheritance she had received on her stepfather’s death. Taking the motorcycle purchase into account, the total was just over ten thousand, depending on Mundane to wizarding conversion rates. The last five hundred, in American Mundane dollars, sat in her backpack-style purse. Alex firmly believed in keeping a portion of her money in Muggle currency, to use an antiquated term. Going back and forth to the local Gringotts branch in the underground district in Salem was inevitably tedious due to the goblins that ran the bank.  
  
Legally a ward of the school for the last five years, Alex had still learned early on how to pay her own way. Now an emancipated minor, all expenses would officially rest on her shoulders. Alex realized she had only two more years of school, just two more years of free room and board. She tried not to think about her future beyond that point. There would be time enough for post-AMA thoughts after she completed her sixth year.  
  
Alex briefly debated whether she should drag her messenger bag up to her room. She badly needed to clean it out. An undetectable extension charm made its inner dimensions practically a black hole and allowed her to stuff it with her potions kit, yearbook, passport and other miscellaneous items. Even the set of leather-bound books she used as yearly diaries were safely tucked away in its depths. While the resulting expansion had made easy to pack loads of clothes for the summer, finding most anything quickly was nearly impossible. She still suspected her lost Transfiguration assignment from last year was hidden somewhere within, but had yet to be able to conjure it forth.  
  
 _I’ll clean it tomorrow, but I better drag it upstairs now,_ she compromised. She tossed her jacket into the messenger bag, slung it over her shoulder and headed around the boy’s dormitory. On the way, she reminded herself that she would have to head down to Salem for school supplies before the school year started next week. This year would undoubtedly be the more expensive than last year; it always seemed that way.  
  
Next to her motorcycle, her radio walkman was easily her favorite possession. The clear case shell that enclosed it was enchanted with the same spells that protected the more modern technology employed at the wizarding school. Delicate and complex charms allowed students the limited use of computers in shielded zones of the campus, like in the Student Commons.  
  
She clicked the walkman on, slipped the headphones over her ears, and tuned into a local Mundane radio station. Jangling, off-tune notes chimed in her ears. At first, she thought something had happened to the walkman’s shielding and examined it closely. _Is there a crack in the case?_  
  
Then the sounds of an angry mob filtered into the headphones. She lingered by the trees outside the girls’ dorm, absently playing with her wolf-bone bracelet until the discordant song was finished in order to hear the announcer call out the tune’s title. It was _'Witch Hunt'_. The next song queued up was even more unsettling: _'Highway to Hell'_.  
  
 _Okay, that’s just disturbing. The morning it was ‘Gimme Shelter’, now this nonsense? What the hell kind of prediction am I supposed to make with those songs? Professor Docker’s never going to accept this for his Divinations project._  
  
Alex made a mental note in her nascent _ars memoriae_ of the song titles for her upcoming Alternative Divination class; she had only started using the technique in the last year and still was learning to master it. Then she put away the walkman before opening the dorm’s side door and noticing a newspaper just inside crumbled on the floor. She picked it up with the intention of dumping it in the trash can in her room and realized it was the _National Enquirer_.  
  
 _“Tsilugi,”_ a creaky little voice intoned the traditional Cherokee greeting.  
  
A Yunwi Usdi stood near the door behind Alex. Standing as high as her knee, the miniature being resembled a thin child or very small adult. The eyes were a solid black from lid to lid, lacking even a trace of white and betrayed the creature as being something other than human.  
  
It was dressed in a neat white loincloth of some type of leather and moccasins clad its feet. In its long hair, it boasted three feathers, one for each bird it had killed. It carried the hard wooden stick that had likely delivered those killing blows casually in one hand. There was a reason birds avoided Storm Haven besides the swirling winds.  
  
“Hello, Yunwi”, Alex greeted it. She didn’t bother to ask for its name. None of the diminutive retainers would share their names and instead simply answered to Yunwi. “Is there something I can do for you?”  
  
One of the first lessons new students learned was that it paid to be polite to Yunwi. Unlike the House Elves found as slaves in other areas of the wizarding world, Yunwi were not bound servants. Lore had it they shared a deep connection to the island that predated the construction of the school. The foolish student that disrespected one could find themselves in a sticky situation at best; at worse, a trip the school clinic might be necessary. Yunwi magic was unlike wizarding magic: it unpredictable and quite often impossible to defend against.  
  
“Your Professor Jordan sends greetings. He says that tomorrow you should meet him when the sun rises above the treetops. He also sends this.” The Yunwi handed Alex a folded paper, which she tucked into her back pocket. To read it before finishing the conversation would be rude.  
  
“Have the teachers already returned from their retreat then?” she inquired.  
  
Towards the end of every summer, the staff at AMA disappeared on a retreat. They discussed the new academic term, went over rules and other teacher-like things Alex could only imagine. Rumor had it the retreat was really a cover for an all-expense paid ocean cruise for the faculty. Alex sometimes wondered if that was true; more than a few of the instructors came back at the start of each new school year sporting noticeably tanned skin.  
  
“Tomorrow, yes,” the Yunwi replied. “Your Professor Jordan came back early, _i-na-dv di-tse-hi-ni-ge-sv-na._ ”  
  
Alex’s eyebrows shot upwards toward her hairline. No one had called her that since her stepfather had died. No one else knew the name she had been gifted with the day she left for AMA.  
  
“How did you…” she started and then shook her head when it offered her a grimace filled with jagged, pointy teeth: the equivalent of Yunwi smile. The only thing more unsettling than wondering how Yunwi seemed to know things no one else did was exactly how tight-lipped they could be about how they came about that knowledge.  
  
After the first time one had addressed her in Cherokee years ago, she spent a month doggedly questioning any Yunwi she could corner to no avail. They had somehow known that her stepfather had grown up on a reservation and had taught her a smattering of the language, but they never revealed how. That they also seemed to speak dozens of Native American dialects fluently was a mystery equal only to why they claimed the great elm tree at the northern end of the island as theirs exclusively. No one dared go near it.  
  
Instead, Alex thanked the Yunwi for delivering the message and note and started towards her room. Then she realized the newspaper still in her hand and turned, intending to ask the Yunwi how the tabloid had gotten there. Unsurprisingly, she found herself alone in the hall. The Yunwi had disappeared as quickly and silently as it had appeared.  
  
The Yunwi were usually good at keeping the school neat - it was one of their ‘jobs’- but they also possessed an odd sense of humor. A messy student could easily return to their dorm room to find their bed piled with rags. Perhaps Yunwi considered the publication unworthy of the effort required to throw it away.  
  
 _Then again, don’t most wizarding adults feel pretty much the same?_ she mused with a glance at the front page. She barely stifled a snort at the headlines and their accompanying pictures.  
  


_‘Prince Charles says Diana is Really a Dangerous Witch!’_  
‘Chupacabra Lives in the Everglades — We have the Photos to Prove It!’  
‘Lose 25lbs in a Week on Our Exclusive Ice Cream Diet!’

 

Amused, she pointed her wand at the tabloid and muttered a revealing spell. The cover of the newspaper shimmered and changed. It now read _The National Inquisitor_. It never ceased to entertain Alex how many Mundanes purchased and read the tabloid without ever knowing it was really a wizarding paper. Nevertheless, the content reported on was of the same questionable quality.

_‘Witch Hoax at Buckingham under Investigation!’_  
‘Ministry of Magic Denies You-Know-Who Is Back!’  
‘Dumbledore Ridiculed for Fostering Potter’s Delusions’

 

One of the pictures on the cover showed a strange green skull hovering in a dark sky. A snake slithered out of its bony jaws. _'The Dark Mark over the Quidditch World Cup in Britain last year',_ the caption read.

She ignored the first headline and settled her attention on the last two. _The Ministry denies? Of course, they do. Even the USBMS agrees with that, she reflected. Death, the Final Frontier. Emphasis on final._ She imagined a particular starship captain intoning those words with a proper British accent.

Alex was familiar with the name Dumbledore. He was well known as the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Triwizard Tournament had received a ton of media attention, even in America. There had been conflicting reports, though, regarding the conclusion of the event. One of the contestants had died and inevitably there had been dark rumors of murder. The solitary point not in contention was that an under-aged student named Potter had captured the Cup. According to the _National Inquisitor_ , the Potter kid was delusional.

The date on the paper made Alex pause as she started up the stairs. September 1st. It was barely a week old. She wondered how the tabloid had gotten into the girls’ dorm. The Yunwi wouldn’t have brought it in and randomly dropped it on the floor. There was debate among the student body as to whether the Yunwi could even read. Then again there was an equal amount of discussion as to whether Yunwi mated or just popped into existence fully grown – no one had ever seen a female or child Yunwi. Alex knew better, though. She had seen the skulls of child Yunwi and had part of one in her possession, thanks to a now-retired instructor.

_So how did the paper get here?_

With a sudden burst of clarity, Alex remembered that there was another student staying over the summer, a rising senior named Lori Cahill. One of the few students afflicted with lycanthropy that attended AMA, Lori probably was on campus due to the recent full moon. AMA had a warded building specifically for werewolves to stay during their ‘time of the month.’ Alex knew about its location because she was the only student who could transform into a wolf without being a werewolf or casting the demanding Transfiguration spell.

Not that any current AMA student could cast that particular one either, and certainly not Alex. Transfiguration was a sore spot for her.

_Speaking of classes…_

Alex pulled out the folded paper Professor Jordan had sent. Her eyes skimmed over the name at the top – Alexis Amaryllis Black. It was a point of contention, a reminder that for all that she had loved him, Hawks Talon had not been her real father, not by blood. She called herself Alexis Hawks Talon both to honor the man who had done his best to raise her and out of spite of her long-absent mother, who had bestowed upon Alex her maiden surname of Black. It didn’t follow the proper Cherokee naming convention, taking her stepfather’s name as her surname, but it suited Alex just fine. The school respected Alex’s preference on a day-to-day basis and went so far as to list her name as such in the annual yearbooks, but officially the school went by what was written on her birth certificate.

It crossed her mind that now that she was emancipated, Alex could have her name changed legally. The thought was worth pursuing later, but at the moment she was more interested in her new class schedule.

“Yes,” she exclaimed as she checked off each class she had requested. She had already known about having Alternative Divinations; it was confirmation of the rest that made her do a little dance in the hallway. Transfiguration, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, and Potions. A perfect set of classes for an aspiring Hunter for the Dark Magic Violations Division.

There was no doubt that Potions was her favorite subject. She had watched her half-Cherokee stepfather brew potions throughout her childhood. He had been a healer and had trained her on the properties of many plants and infusions. It was only natural then that she appreciated Professor Jordan’s encouragement of his students to explore alternative solutions to the standard potions. Alex would often substitute Native American components with standard wizarding potions. Many times she found that adding an ingredient or handling the preparation in a slightly different manner drastically improved the result. Potions required a deft hand coupled with a curious mind and a natural affinity for working with a cauldron.

_And Professor Jordan wants to see me tomorrow. Wonder what he wants to discuss? Gotta remember to tell him thanks for snagging my schedule early._

A smile tugged at her lips. _Junior year is going to be great._ Alex could feel in down in her bones. This was going to be her year.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bear statue named Beorn is a reference to the shape-shifter character of the same name in The Hobbit, by JRR Tolkien. 
> 
> Yunwi Tsunsdi are actual Native American folkloric creatures.
> 
> The Cherokee Nation hosts a robust database of Cherokee words and their translations on their website. Many of the Cherokee words in this story can be found there. For instance, “Tsilugi” can be considered the equivalent to “welcome” or “welcome back”.
> 
> The concept of foretelling the future by listening to a radio playlist was borrowed from the “Soulsmith” trilogy, published back 1991 and written by Tom Deitz (RIP). I twisted it a little by using a radio walkman.
> 
> Chapter title from “Welcome to my life”, Simple Plan, Still Not Getting Any…
> 
> “Witch Hunt”, Rush, Moving Pictures  
> “Highway to Hell”, AC/DC, Highway to Hell  
> “Gimme Shelter”, Rolling Stones, Let It Bleed
> 
> The starship captain referred to is none other than Jean-Luc Picard of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Paramount Domestic Television.
> 
> The National Enquirer is a real tabloid with really questionable articles. Published by American Media Inc.
> 
> Many thanks to narcissablack for once more taking my muse to task and straightening out the odds and ends for me.


	3. Witch Hunt

  
Alex’s happy train of thought derailed the moment she opened the door to her room. Seated on the lower half of one of the two bunk beds, gripping a sheet of parchment and a quill in her long-fingered hands, was the last person she expected or desired to see – her mother, Anne Downey née Black.  
  
Her mother hastily dropped the parchment next to a manila package and a more recent copy of the National Inquisitor. Several candles were casually placed on the nightstands and their warm light picked out the sheen of her mother’s deck of tarot cards as they lay in a classic Celtic cross formation across one-half of the bed. Spotting The Tower in the tenth position and Death in the eleventh, Alex spared the cards a narrow-eyed glare before tilting her chin back up towards her mother.  
  
Alex had inherited her mother’s raven hair, slim figure, and petite stature, but the resemblance ended there. Where Alex’s face was almost plain and her almond-shaped eyes grey, her mother had delicate high cheekbones, obsidian eyes, and perfect lips. Combined, Anne was the epitome of a flawless aristocrat, effortlessly beautiful despite years of drug abuse. Around her neck hung a familiar necklace with a silver double trinity knot charm. Her mother never took it off; it was always present and ever gleaming.  
  
“Close the door, Alexis,” Anne demanded in a clipped voice. Alex only too willingly complied, dropping the messenger bag on the floor. On the off-chance someone like Lori walked by, Alex definitely didn’t need them seeing her mother. She tossed the tabloid she had found downstairs in the trash. Its infiltration of the dorm was no longer a mystery.  
  
“I’m doing great, Mother, thanks for asking. And how are you?” Alex spat, making no attempt to disguise the sarcasm dripping from her voice. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the door.  
  
This was the woman who had abandoned her to the care of her cancer-stricken stepfather at the tender age of five. This was the woman who would drop into her world just long enough to disrupt it with dreams and hopes of a normal life, only to leave when the need for drugs once again overwhelmed her. This was the woman she’d long ago decided never to become.  
  
 _What the hell is she doing here?_ A hard knot began to form in the pit of Alex’s stomach. What is she up to now?  
  
“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for a week, dodging those odd little…things this school uses for House Elves.” Anne gathered the tarot cards and parchment and shoved them into the manila package.  
  
“They’re not things. They’re Yunwi.”  
  
Anne rose with an unconscious grace from the bed, already dismissing what Alex’s words. “No matter, we have to go now.”  
  
Alex pushed off the door abruptly. “Go? I’m not going anywhere, Mother. I just got back. You can go if you want.”  
  
Her mother continued as if she hadn’t heard Alex, like a small yet forceful steamroller. “They are expecting to meet us tomorrow at midnight. We’ll Apparate to-”  
  
“We’re not Apparating anywhere,” Alex growled. She would not let her mother sneak her way into her life and somehow into her heart. Not ever again.  
  
That startled her mother for a moment. “Haven’t you taken Apparition lessons?” A frown creased her forehead as she touched her temple. “No wait, you aren’t seventeen yet. You never Apparate from here.” She absentmindedly patted Alex’s arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll Side-Along Apparate.”  
  
 _I never Apparate from here? I've never Apparated ever. What, is she high?_ Alex shook off her mother’s hand with a disgusted sound. “What drugs are you on now? Warlock’s Dust? In case you haven’t seen a calendar in a while, school starts next week. The only place I’m going is to Salem to buy my school supplies.”  
  
Resentment simmered in her mother’s eyes at the mention of drugs. “I am clean, Alexis. I haven’t touched Warlock’s Dust or anything more potent than a strong cup of tea in over a year.”  
  
Alex had to admit it, her mother didn’t look as if like she was using. Her hair was pinned up fashionably. Her clothes were clean and her white shirt was crisply pressed. Even her voice sounded normal, unlike the almost girlish pitch it affected when high. No insane giggling. Nonetheless, the odd fevered look in her eyes was disturbing. No amount of deftly applied makeup could hide it.  
  
“Alexis, he has returned! His followers hunt us!”  
  
“Who - what followers –” Alex bit off her question and swung her purse off her shoulder, taking a deep breath that did nothing to calm the rising tide of anger. _Does she owe someone money again? Is that it? Damnitall!_  
  
“You know what? Don’t even bother explaining, Mother. I don’t need to deal with your problems. You wanna go?” Alex flung open the door with a loud bang. “Then go. Please. I’ll even give you money if that’s what you want.”  
  
Her hand slipped into her purse, ready to pull out her stash of Mundane money. She hated to give up the cash, but it was easier this way. Her mother would eventually either ask for it under the pretenses of an emergency or steal it outright, as she had from her stepfather right before Alex’s first year at AMA.  
  
“Alexis! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming for us. We must leave while we can. I’ve made arrangements for protection.”  
  
 _He-Who-Must-Not what?_ Her eyes flicked to the newspaper on the bed. _Merlin’s balls, does she really believe that crap?_ Alex thought.  
  
“Mother, what protection? No one is after us! You’re … delusional!” Alex waved her hands in frustration. “High on whatever you managed to get your hands on, and reading those damn tabloids about Volde-”  
  
“DO NOT SAY HIS NAME!” her mother screamed.  
  
“Voldemort!” Alex doggedly persisted. A second later her head rocked back as her mother resoundingly slapped her. In the shocked silence that followed, Anne spoke in a voice utterly devoid of emotion.  
  
“That name is death to us. You must never speak it. He has returned and his Death Eaters are coming.” Her mother pushed up the left sleeve of her long-sleeved shirt and held out her arm for Alex to examine.  
  
Alex automatically zoomed onto the pale flesh of Anne’s inner elbow, searching for telltale track marks. She was surprised there were none, old or new. Her mother hadn’t been lying. She had always favored the inner elbow yet the pale skin was unblemished.  
  
In the next instant, Alex reassessed that notion as her eyes were drawn to the jet-black skull and snake tattoo that stood out starkly against the pale skin on her mother’s forearm. It was the same as the Dark Mark pictured on the cover of the tabloid.  
  
As a child, Alex had suffered nightmares about snakes after having had stumbled unwittingly into a nest. In the face of that tattoo, the old fears she thought long laid to rest shifted uneasily in the shadowy recesses of her mind.  
  
“What the hell is that, Mom?” Alex searched her mother’s face as the knot in her stomach twisted tighter. “What is going on? What does some - some dead British wizard have to do with us here in America? Vold – whoever, he was a European problem!”  
  
“A European problem? British wizard?” her mother asked in exasperation. “You are British as I am, and the Dark Lord is everyone’s problem! Whatever do they teach you children here?”  
  
Her mother never got an answer as to the quality of her daughter’s education. At that moment, an enormous blast shook the building. Pictures belonging to Alex’s roommates bounced and fell off the wall as the window rattled violently. In the corner, Alex’s violin case tipped precariously and abruptly fell. The mirror that the four roommates shared swung drunkenly on its nail on the wall. Then the lights overhead flickered briefly before they died away. The resulting darkness was startlingly oppressive.  
  
Alex slipped out her wand from the sheath in her sleeve and quickly slung her purse over her left shoulder. Dust motes danced in the eerie green light that seeped into the room from around the edges of the curtains. Alex edged past her mother to the window and yanked it open with one swift motion. A bright emerald haze filled the sky and the image of a skull hung in the heavens. As she gazed upward, a snake squirmed out of the skull’s mouth with a vaguely obscene wiggle.  
  
“It’s too late,” Anne said. “I thought there was a chance, but they’ve come.”  
  
At the center of the campus, Alex could see the Student Commons lit with flames. Smoke billowed out of broken windows. Faintly through the now cracked glass of her window, Alex could hear alarms wailing discordantly in the night.  
  
“Alexis.” Her mother withdrew a potion from her pocket. “Drink this, for your own protection. They must not see your face.”  
  
“What-”  
  
“Just do it!” Her mother scooped Alex’s messenger bag from the floor as Alex hesitantly sniffed at the potion bottle. It smelled vile.  
  
Anne finished jamming the manila package into the messenger bag. “For once, trust me!” she implored, stepping close to Alex and placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “If you are not disguised, they will find you. You will die.”  
  
A second explosion ripped through the night. To the east of the Student Commons, the administration and classroom buildings were engulfed in an inferno. Fear coursed through Alex’s veins with the swiftness of an electric shock. Who were these wizards that could bring so much destruction so quickly?  
  
Without another thought, she brought the phial to her lips and gulped. Alex fought the instinct to gag as her stomach churned. A familiar burning spread outwards to her limbs and she grabbed her midsection with a moan. Recognition of the potion her mother had given her flitted through her mind even as her skin unnervingly rippled and stretched to accommodate her body lengthening another half span in height. The bones of her face shifted.  
  
Alex caught a glimpse of her reflection in the cracked mirror now laying on the floor. Her hair waved about, curling before her eyes and rapidly changing from black to blond. She looked exactly like Lori!  
  
Then her mother’s arm was around her shoulders, pulling Alex upright and shoving her messenger bag into her arms. “You have to leave, Alexis, now!”  
  
She was dragged halfway out of her room, the strap of her purse falling off her shoulder. There was no time for anything other than one last glance at her violin case lying forlornly on the floor.  
  
 _“Lumos.”_  
  
The wand in her hand emitted a small beam of light. Alex transferred it to her mouth as she slipped her purse into her messenger bag and arranged it in a more comfortable position. Then she promptly nearly fell over the Yunwi that had appeared out of nowhere. It let out a startled yelp and waved its walking stick threateningly. Alex held out her hand to placate it and to halt the muttered curse her mother had begun to cast.  
  
“Yunwi, please, get any students on campus out of here. They’re in danger. Take them to the Portkey. Or your great elm tree.”  
  
It tilted its head, solid black eyes gleaming questioningly. Could it see through the effects of the Polyjuice potion? After a moment, it nodded. There was a shimmer in the air not unlike the haze above a paved road on a hot summer day. Then the Yunwi was gone – disappeared between one breath and the next.  
  
Alex led her mother out of the side entrance. The night was black without the moon, and the air was thick and still. A miasma of smoke and shadows wound through the trees and bushes like a dark shroud. The only other sources of light were the emerald skull overhead and the flames devouring the campus.  
  
“Mom, you can Apparate us out of here.”  
  
Anne shook her head even as Alex suggested the logical course of escape. “It’s too late for me now, but not for you.”  
  
Before Alex could ask what her mother meant, a cold, heartless woman’s voice bellowed across the greenway.  
  
“ADHARA!”  
  
Her mother stopped and turned her head. Alex stared at her and then scanned the area around them. _Who was Adhara and why was her mother just standing there?_ Shadows moved beyond the trees, heading their way.  
  
“RHIAIN ADHARA BLACK!”  
  
Black? A chill ran down Alex’s spine. That was her last name, her mother’s maiden name. Could it be …  
  
Alex’s mother touched her shoulder. An errant breeze blew a lock of dark hair across her mother’s face. Anxious young grey eyes met weary black ones filled with resignation.  
  
“Alexis, you must get away to London,” her mother started, her voice surprisingly calm. “Listen carefully. There are plane tickets in your bag. The Order will meet you at midnight at King’s Cross Station, near platform Nine and Three-Quarters. When you get there, tell them who you are and give them the package.” The low-pitched instructions were delivered in rapid-fire succession.  
  
Her mother unclasped the necklace from around her own neck.  
  
“But, Mom-” Alex objected as her mother hung it on her and tucked the Celtic charm under the neckline of her shirt.  
  
Her mother gently pressed a kiss against her head. “Listen to me and tell no one of this, _a leanbh_ ,” she whispered urgently. “Do not be scared of him. He won’t hurt you. _Do croí is ea é_.”  
  
Alex pulled back in bewilderment, but before she could voice her confusion, her mother was placing her hands firmly on her shoulders.  
  
“Run, Alexis. Run and don’t look back!”  
  
The ebony-haired witch, with regret carved in every line of her face, cast a Disillusion Charm on Alex and then pushed her only child behind the trees. With that, Anne turned towards whoever approached, her head held high and wand in hand. Alex took a few steps into the slim protection of the smoke-shrouded tree line and hid.  
  
“Here I am, Bella!” Her mother shouted.  
  
Weaving shadows resolved into four hooded and masked figures. Alex blinked furiously against the haze.  
  
“You have betrayed the Dark Lord! Your life is forfeited!”  
  
Anne raised her wand and managed to cast a spell, but it was too late. Her spell went awry even as another hit her in the chest.  
  
 _“Crucio!”_  
  
Her mother collapsed to the ground. Her body writhed among the fallen leaves, arching and thrashing as if caught in the grasp of a grand mal seizure. Agonizing screams tore themselves from her throat.  
  
“Where is it, ‘Dhara? Where did you hide it, you little bitch?” shouted one of the figures in a cruel feminine voice.  
  
For a fleeting moment, Alex was torn between fleeing to her bike and the safety of the Portkey, and defending her mother. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as her mother’s heels battered the ground convulsively.  
  
This was the woman who had abandoned her.  
  
This was the woman who had birthed her.  
  
Alex nervously twirled her wand and it flashed through her fingers and over her knuckles briefly. Her indecision lasted few heartbeats. Then she stepped from behind the trees and attacked.  
  
 _“Expelliarmus!”_  
  
Standing over her screaming mother, one of the attackers found his wand violently thrown into the shadows. Alex took advantage of their momentary surprise. She cast her second spell swiftly.  
  
 _“Incendio!”_  
  
The first figure dodged and was grazed, but the second standing directly behind was caught full on by the spell. He burst into flames and he fell away to roll on the ground with a screech.  
  
Before she could hardly draw her next breath, Alex saw a flash from the corner of her eye and threw herself to the left, rolling away. Where she had stood, a beam of green light flashed with the sound of rushing wind. Her blood ran cold with sudden fear.  
  
 _What the hell was that?_ Alex wondered. She shook as a trickle of warmth crept down her body, signaling that the Disillusion Charm had collapsed.  
  
“You little bitch!” the dark witch snarled. Smoke-tinged wind teased wild black hair from her hood as she advanced forward.  
  
Alex cast a hex and the witch tripped over her wounded comrade in an effort to dodge it. Behind the witch, the first wizard came up from the ground near Alex’s mother with the recovered wand in hand.  
  
Alex scuttled back, weaving between the trees and bushes, not knowing what to do next. Her heart raced as she hid. The reality of her situation was frightening. This was nothing like the annual School Dueling competition. This was all too real. The scant covering of the trees and smoke would not hide her for long.  
  
Then her mother’s tortured shrieks rose again as at least one of the robed figures resumed questioning her. The screams ceased, followed by a brief, welcoming silence. Then Alex could hear her mother answering, her voice an almost indistinct murmur.  
  
“… daughter … the key …”  
  
The raggedness of her mother’s voice tugged on something deep in Alex’s heart. She worked her way around back toward the dorm, staying low to the ground and hoping to attack from a different angle. Through the trees she caught a glimpse of her mother’s swaying figure, attempting to stand. As Alex steeled herself to jump back into the fight, a roaring white light raced towards her. She whirled to face the new threat and watched as a familiar motorcycle burst through the veil of smoke.  
  
“Lori, duck!” Professor Jordan yelled, calling Alex by the other student’s name. His wand was pointed at something behind her. Alex hurled herself to the ground.  
  
The motorcycle slid sideways next to her with a throaty growl even as Jordan yelled, _“Stupefy!”_ A smoking figure nearby went down stunned.  
  
Then from behind Alex, a booming woman’s voice rang out. _“Avada Kedavra!”_  
  
Alex rolled on her left side and pushed up to her knees, eyes wide. Time slowed down. The thick veil of smoke parted momentarily. Between the tree trunks, just behind the stone benches, Alex glimpsed her mother as she collapsed. Her body was utterly still and the wand slipped out between lifeless fingers. The Dark Mark on her mother’s pale forearm was barely visible.  
  
 _No!_ Alex pleaded silently. _Momma!_  
  
Then Jordan was shouting at her from the motorcycle, “Run!”  
  
For the second time that night, someone told her to run. Alex scrambled to her feet and bolted.  
  
“Find her!” The voice belonged to her mother’s killer. A red bolt flew over her head.  
  
Alex pocketed her wand and brushed her fingers the carven bone-bracelet around her wrist. In her mind, she cried out in Cherokee, _Waya!_  
  
Her form shimmered and gleamed for a mere heartbeat as it flowed like dark wax, collapsing on itself, falling forward. An instant later, a grey wolf darted away. Alex sent wordless thanks to her stepfather for gifting her the bracelet and to his Cherokee ancestors for the tribal magic that imbued it.  
  
As she darted past the dorm, the side door flew open. Alex got a split-second glimpse of Lori peering about in utter confusion. A Yunwi was urging her to follow. Then Alex was racing towards the parking lot.  
  
Her nose burned and her eyes were watery by the time she skidded to a stop next to her motorcycle. Her shape once more shimmered, flowed, and then Alex rose from a crouch, human again. She mounted the motorcycle and jammed her helmet on. Somehow she managed to get the keys in on the first try and the engine roared to life. Hastily, she pivoted on one foot and slewed the motorcycle around a tight 180 degrees.  
  
Alex looked back once and saw jets of green and red flying through the smoke. Somewhere beyond the building, the engine of the other motorcycle snarled. All of it seemed far removed as Alex heard the ghostly echoes of her mother’s last words in her mind.  
  
 _‘Run, Alexis...don’t look back!’_  
  
Alex pulled hard on the throttle and shot out of the parking lot, heading back to the Portkey. Fingers of billowing smoke rose to hide the moon. In her side mirrors, the American Magic Academy burned.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Waya” is Cherokee (Tsalagi) for “wolf”.
> 
> Chapter title from “Witch Hunt”, Rush, Moving Pictures
> 
> Chapter image by Draco_Luva @ TDA
> 
> Many thanks to MargaretLane at HPFF for her invaluable assistance in with Irish Gaelic. Any mistakes in the transcribing of these phrases are mine alone.
> 
> A quick note about music. The chapter titles of this story all related to songs. I find music to be the key to inspiring my muse. Occasionally a particular song becomes bonded in my mind to a particular chapter, most likely because I listened to it over and over while writing. When this happens, I’ll try to note it here. Sometimes the song correlates to the chapter title; sometimes it doesn’t. In this case, the former is true. From the moment the first explosion rocks the campus, “Witch Hunt” becomes the soundtrack of this chapter – well, at least in my head.


	4. Run Like Hell

An hour into the trans-Atlantic flight, Alex roused herself from her memories. She hadn’t been able to sleep for more than a few drowsy moments since departing Portland and didn’t see any point in further attempts to do so.  
  
From beneath her seat, she pulled out her messenger bag. It was one the few possessions she had left, along with her purse. Her camera, all of her pictures, souvenirs and old textbooks had been destroyed in the fire. Even her beloved motorcycle had to be abandoned at the Portland airport.  
  
Despite the depths that had previously swallowed up items never to be found again, it took her only a moment to fish out her mother’s package. Then back the messenger bag went under the seat. Alex ignored the tarot cards and pulled out the piece of parchment she had seen earlier when retrieving the flight tickets her mother had left for her.  
  
 _'Alexis,_  
  
 _My deepest fears have been realized. The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, has returned. Even now, the Dark Mark burns on my arm. He summons his Death Eaters and I dare not answer._  
  
 _In my youth, I followed the Dark Lord, as did others in my family. I was a fool to fall under their influence. After the incident, I rejected him and stole away.'_  
  
The paragraph that followed had been hastily scratched out. Squinted, Alex could just make out a handful of phrases that when strung together made no sense.  
  
 _'… the relic … if I should fall … without you … foreseen … You are the key.'_  
  
Then the letter picked up clearly once more.  
  
 _'It is imperative you do not trust your professors or their Academy to protect you. They lack the necessary strength and knowledge. Travel to England with all haste. Use the flight tickets I’m leaving you. Change the dates on them with a charm if you must. It is crucial you meet me at Kings Cross Station at midnight. I have arranged for -'_  
  
  
The letter stopped mid-sentence, as abruptly as her mother had been snatched away from her. There was no signature, certainly no happy ending. In Alex’s eyes, even the scratched out paragraph took on a reflection of her relationship with her mother: messy, chaotic, a blotch on what should have been normal.  
  
Alex staved off her emotions, blinking away tears furiously, and tried to focus on the content of the letter. _What arrangements had Mom made? And that scratched out paragraph, what was that about it?_ It made as much sense as what her mother’s frantic whispers to her back at the school, about not being scared of someone, that he wouldn’t hurt her. _Who had Mom been talking about and why am I not supposed to not tell anyone?_  
  
Noting the time, Alex realized she would be hard-pressed to make the midnight meeting her mother mentioned once the plane landed. The layovers in New York and Dublin had eaten away long hours. She returned the letter to the envelope and removed the next two documents.  
  
The first was familiar. A birth certificate listed her as Alexis Amaryllis Black, daughter of Anne Black, born in Thornwood, NY. She skimmed over the notations of her weight, the color of hair and eyes, the exact time of birth. Nothing she hadn’t seen before.  
  
The second document told a completely different story. It listed a child with the same name but born in Bellingham, Northumberland, England. Recorded under the block for the mother’s name was Rhiain Adhara Black.  
  
Alex had long known her mother’s surname was Black, but she had never heard her called anything other than Anne. _At least not until the attack,_ she thought.  
  
The only significant similarity the certificates shared besides Alex’s name was that the area for her father’s name was blank on each. Anne had never revealed who her father had been.  
  
As Alex replaced the documents, her fingers fumbled over a folded heavy piece of yellowish parchment towards the bottom of the package. Slowly she pulled it out. The top was embossed with a coat of arms featuring a lion, a snake, an eagle and a badger. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was listed just below.  
  
 _‘Dear Ms. Alexis Amaryllis Black,_  
  
 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of...’*_  
  
  
Alex was stunned. She had never seen this letter before. When had she been accepted to Hogwarts? Her mother had once years ago mentioned attending Hogwarts, but then had clammed up. A quick glance at the date revealed the letter was over five years old.  
  
Alex closed her eyes and thought back to the time before her first year at AMA. The spring her mother had appeared suddenly and stayed with them, leading up to her eleventh birthday. _Had Mom come to intercept this letter somehow?_  
  
Alex had been so excited to receive the invitation to the American Magic Academy; she never suspected there had been another invitation. Alex examined the letter again. It addressed her by her full name.  
  
Obviously, there was at least one person in the world who had not been fooled by her mother’s obvious attempts to conceal the past: Albus Dumbledore. The exact same person the _National Inquisitor_ reported was fostering one of his student’s delusions.  
  
 _Would they call me delusional, too, if I told them what happened back at AMA?_  
  
Mysteries upon mysteries. In the center lay a darkness that had consumed her mother and threatened to do the same to her. Perhaps the Headmaster of Hogwarts could help solve those mysteries. Alex hoped as much as she tucked the contents back into the package and then shoved it back into the messenger bag.  
  
On impulse, she pulled her mother’s necklace out from under her shirt. As far back as Alex could remember her mother had worn it constantly. In later years, Alex had been amazed her mother had never pawned it for drug money. The pure silver knotwork featured a double trinity, a small one intertwined within the larger in a never-ending loop.  
  
Idly tracing the complex Celtic knot with a finger, Alex let the swarm of questions chase themselves around in her mind. She felt as though the answers lay just out of her reach. She was fleeing from Death Eaters to a foreign country with the hope that she would find protection. The meeting was set for midnight, but she might not reach it in time. _Will they still be waiting, whoever or whatever this Order is?_  
  
Alex didn’t even know how to feel about her mother’s death. She had not been a significant part of Alex’s life for so long. Whenever their paths crossed, it seemed pain and disappointment were inevitable. Her emotions ran the gamut. Guilt was chased by anger, frustration followed swiftly on the heels of grief.  
  
She shook her head. _How did I go from looking forward to the best year at school to running for my life?_  
  


~ ~ * ~ ~

  
  
Just after midnight, Alex found herself trudging through Kings Cross Station. She had reverted her hair and eyes back to their original colors before leaving Heathrow and traveling to the train station. She was still amazed in a hazy sort of way that she was actually in London, England, over three thousand miles from home. Things had happened so fast.  
  
On the cab ride over to the station, Alex had tried unsuccessfully to distract herself by picking out landmarks. Her mind couldn’t let go the image of AMA burning, though. Alex had wondered whether anyone had missed her yet or if school officials were still sorting out the damage. _Had Lori made it out alive? Had Professor Jordan?_ It had seemed as if every building had been in flames by the time she had reached the Portkey.  
  
Before the cab reached its destination, she had slipped her mother’s package into a large pocket sewn on the inside of her leather jacket. Her wand she had hidden in her coat sleeve for easy access. She had escaped her pursuers thus far and had no idea what to expect.  
  
Now Alex’s eyes flicked over the numerous signs. The lone person manning the information desk wearily had given her general directions to platforms nine and ten. Alex hadn’t wanted to ask about nine and three-quarters. The number itself seemed odd; all the signs she’d seen the platforms went by whole digits. Still, Alex knew that what was odd for Mundanes was sometimes a clue to something magical.  
  
She ditched the energy drink she had picked up at the airport. Then she spotted the sign for platform nine further up ahead. It was empty and the general area was poorly lit. Several of the lights had burned out and had not been replaced. A little apprehensive, Alex continued on past the ninth platform. Her footsteps became slower the gloomier the area became.  
  
 _I’ve got a bad feeling about this._  
  
When she reached platform ten, she stopped. A prickly sensation ran down her spine. She was being watched. Alex abruptly turned on her heel and found a man with a large black dog at his side. His robes were patched and rumpled; grey strands were sprinkled liberally in his brown hair. When he caught a glimpse of her face, the man halted. The dog gave a soft warning growl.  
  
“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else,” the man said in a hoarse voice before turning away. Alex watched him for a heartbeat before her brain belatedly rang the alarm.  
  
 _Robes! He’s wearing wizard robes._  
  
“That someone wouldn’t have been Rhiain Adhara Black, would it?” she asked before she lost her nerve. Her hand slipped close to where her wand was hidden.  
  
The man stopped in his steps. The dog did not. It whirled around and approached stiff-legged, circling wide. Alex tried to keep an eye on both as the wizard turned to face her.  
  
“Perhaps. However, you are not she.”  
  
Alex shook her head. “She’s dead,” she informed him in a voice that caught in her throat. “They – they killed her.”  
  
The wizard stepped closer. Alex could hear the clicks of the dog’s nails as it paced behind her. Her heart raced. She glanced at the wizard’s eyes and found they were a warm brown, with hints of gold and dark shadows. Alex drew in a sharp hissing breath as the bracelet on her wrist tingled. Something dark peered out of those eyes, indistinct yet unspeakably dangerous.  
  
 _\- the scent of an old forest – the taste of fresh blood –_  
  
The man cleared his throat and broke the spell. Alex shook her head slightly. _What’s wrong with me?_ she wondered as she found herself rubbing the wolf bone bracelet.  
  
“- said, who are you?” the voice demanded from behind. Alex twirled to find a stranger with black hair behind her, wand at the ready. His stormy grey eyes watched her every move. She didn’t know to where the dog had disappeared.  
  
Alex glanced over her shoulder at the first wizard in rumpled robes. He had his wand out as well. Things were not going well. Before Alex could slip out her wand, thin snake-like cords wrapped tightly around her. They dragged her into the deep shadows.  
  
“Who are you? I won’t ask again,” the black-haired wizard threatened as Alex struggled. It was no use. She could barely wiggle her fingers.  
  
“Alex Hawks Talon,” she answered instinctively. She cursed silently and then corrected herself. “But I was born Alexis Black. I’m her daughter. She told me to come here.”  
  
A weighted glance was exchanged between two wizards. “Prove it,” said the one she mentally referred to as Patches.  
  
After being on the run, not having any sleep and losing her mother, something in Alex snapped. “And just how the hell am I supposed to do that when you’ve got me tied up?”  
  
There was a quirk of the lips that almost made it seem as if Patches was restraining himself. Then the cords unraveled and retracted. Their wands still remained trained on Alex.  
  
Slowly, Alex opened her jacket and pulled out the package her mom had given her. Her fingers slipped in and a heartbeat later, Alex withdrew her birth certificate without giving it more than a cursory glance.  
  
 _Merlin, let it be the one from England,_ she pleaded silently. Her luck held out.  
  
After a swift scan of the paper, the dark-haired wizard pocketed it. “It seems authentic.” He held out a hand. “Your wand.”  
  
When Alex hesitated, he urged her. “Your wand for your safety. Give it over.” Alex reluctantly handed it over, feeling utterly defenseless.  
  
If they weren’t her mother’s contacts, Alex realized things could go from bad to deadly in a heartbeat. Without her wand, all she could do was transform into a wolf and run like hell. She eyed the platform and wondered how far she could get before they could hex her or worse.  
  
Then the black-haired man addressed Patches. “Remus, give me a moment and then bring her along. I need to see to Kreacher.”  
  
He then Disapparated with a loud crack. Alex turned a questioning look at Remus. He stroked his chin briefly and then withdrew a slip of a paper from his robes. On it was written, _'The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.'_ *  
  
 _So that’s the Order Mom was talking about? Who are they?_  
  
“Remus Lupin,” the wizard interrupted her thoughts as he introduced himself. “Tell me, have you ever Side-Along Apparated?”  
  


~ ~ * ~ ~

  
  
Alex entered the long dim hallway. Spider webs hung from the ceiling in corners. One large cobweb in particular stretched down to a rickety table where a serpent-shaped candelabrum illuminated the thin layer of dust coating the surface. A musty smell permeated the place. It felt as if no one had lived there a long time, yet still, there were odd signs pointing to it being inhabited.  
  
Lupin led her to a downstairs kitchen that proved to be large and gloomy. A number of pots hung overhead and an unlit fireplace dominated one wall. There was, however, a pile of dishes in the sink, mute testimony to someone regularly eating there.  
  
“Alexis, was it?” he inquired as he set a pot of water to heat on the stove. “Care for some tea?”  
  
The banality of the question was surreal. First, they had disarmed her back at the station and now he wanted to know if she’d like tea.  
  
 _What’s next, if I want one lump of sugar or two? Is the Mad Hatter going to join us?*_ A hysterical-tinged giggle threatened to bubble up. She choked it down and responded, “Just Alex.”  
  
“Alex, then,” Remus amended. “Forgive me if I sound insensitive, but exactly what happened? We were expecting your mother at the station.”  
  
Alex bit her lower lip. She had no idea exactly who these people were other than they had been waiting for her mom. On the other hand, there was something about this wizard that made Alex want to trust him on some instinctual level.  
  
“Death Eaters, that’s what Mom called them. They attacked us at AMA – I mean, the American Magical Academy. Blew the whole place up. There was this mark in the sky, just like the one – just like on Mom’s arm. Before she died, Mom gave me this.” Alex pulled out the package from her jacket. “She said something about an Order meeting me and that I should give them this.” After a moment’s hesitation, she pushed the contents across the table towards him, her mother’s letter on top. “I guess that means you.”  
  
As Remus perused the letter from her mother, the other wizard entered the kitchen. He casually placed an Imperturbable Charm on the door before approaching. Remus handed him the letter with a questioning glance and then busied himself with pouring out tea into three chipped cups.  
  
Alex turned her attention to the dark-haired wizard who was introducing himself as Sirius Black. Now that he wasn’t waving a wand threateningly at her, she realized his eyes were startlingly similar to her own.  
  
“’Dhara was my cousin. She initiated contact at the beginning of summer,” Sirius began, “Said she’d dropped out of sight all those years ago in fear of her sister Bellatrix and her brother-in-law Lucius. ‘Dhara wanted to negotiate information for protection for two people, but she never mentioned that the second person was a daughter.” His voice was gruff with overtones of emotions.  
  
Alex was startled. _He’s Mom’s cousin? I have…family?_  
  
The thought was almost dizzying. She had never considered the notion that she might have family in England. Her mother had never mentioned relatives, leaving Alex to assume she didn’t have any. After her stepfather’s death during her first year at AMA, Alex had been by herself. Her mother had disappeared and the school had been forced to legally step in and make her a ward.  
  
 _If I had known Mom still had relatives here - if Dean Whitmore had known - would I have been sent to England all those years ago?_  
  
“Perhaps it would be best if you started at the beginning, Alex,” Remus suggested, rousing Alex from her thoughts and offering her a cup of tea.  
  
Alex stifled a yawn and then started to relay her story. The events were still fresh in her mind. While she included as much detail as possible, there were two areas in which Alex deliberately left out a few details. The first concerned certain aspects of her activities at the airport. She wasn’t proud of what she had done with the tracer charm so she kept the details fuzzy. Then again, she reasoned hadn’t had much choice.  
  
The second omission was the strange bit her mother had whispered to her, right at the end. She could still hear her mother’s words, _‘Listen to me and tell no one of this.’_  
  
Once she had completed her slightly altered tale, they laid out the rest of the contents of the package. The worn tarot cards looked forlorn on the table next to her birth certificates. Staring up from the top of the deck was a card featuring a fairy queen in all her ethereal beauty. On her brow was a crown of leaves and flowers, and at her neck rested an intricate charm.  
  
As one wizard examined a document, the other would throw out a question.  
  
What did she know about the part of the letter her mother had tried to scratch out? What might her mother had meant when she referred to Alex as ‘the key’? Did she see any of the Death Eaters’ faces? Had her mother ever discussed the Dark Lord? Had Adhara really borne his mark on her arm? Why did Alex have two birth certificates? What had her mother told her about the Order?  
  
Alex did her best to answer each question between her increasingly frequent yawns, although her knowledge was scant. As she finished, she added, “Mom was secretive. We weren’t even close. I hadn’t seen her since I started school.”  
  
“And why was that, little cousin?” Sirius questioned as he sat across from Alex. His voice took on a gentler tone. “You don’t exactly sound like you’re grieving her death – scared maybe, but not grieving like someone does when they lose a parent.”  
  
“Look, I don’t know what Mom was like back when you knew her, but for as long as I can remember, she was hooked on one drug or the other. It was either alcohol or Warlock Dust. She abandoned me with my stepfather before I was five.”  
  
The words tumbled tinged with more bitterness than Alex expect. “The last time Mom came around was the spring before I started AMA. Turns out she was there to get my Hogwarts letter. That and the money she stole when she left.”  
  
“Yet she tried to obtain protection for the both of you,” Remus pointed out quietly, “and you tried to save her.”  
  
Alex shrugged hopelessly. Had she wanted her mother to die? What child, even one abandoned, wanted that? But she couldn’t say she loved her mother either, not the way a daughter should. The strongest emotion she felt in regards to Adhara was probably regret. She was unable to fully reason her actions to herself, let alone to two virtual strangers.  
  
“All I know is that all hell broke loose at AMA. Mom was killed, there were people chasing me and all of a sudden I’m in another country.”  
  
Abruptly overwhelmed, Alex buried her face in her hands and once more choked back the hysterical giggle that kept trying to escape. “Here I was hoping you guys would know what the hell was going on.”  
  
When silence greeted her comment, Alex glanced up and caught the significant look that passed between Sirius and Remus. The feeling that something important was being decided struck Alex intensely.  
  
“Please,” she pleaded quietly, “I have no one else to turn to, nowhere else to go.” Sudden tears welled up. Alex averted her face and walked away from the table, hugging herself. The thought of wandering lost around in a foreign country if they decided not to help her loomed in her mind. How long would she last before those dark wizards caught up with her?  
  
 _Don’t do this,_ she admonished herself. _You’re exhausted and scared, but don’t you dare cry._  
  
In a gruff voice, Sirius assured her, “No one is going to turn you out, Alex.” He walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. She mastered the threatening tears and turned around.  
  
Remus approached with a fresh cup of tea. “What you’ve been through is terrible, we realize that, Alex. Give us a little time to confer with our associates while you rest.”  
  
She took the tea he offered and watched as Remus strode to the fireplace. Then Sirius led a weary Alex upstairs to a guest bedroom. She hardly noticed that the bed was canopied or that the dust had been wiped off the nightstand, except for a smidgen on the furthest corner that had been missed. All her fatigued mind noted was her messenger bag in the corner.  
  
The emotional roller coaster Alex had been riding on finally crashed and weariness rose like a tidal wave. She managed to place her cup of tea on the nightstand before collapsing on the bed. Her boots were still on when sleep pulled her under. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The acceptance letter Alex received based off of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, by JK Rowling, page 51, US hardback edition
> 
> he Mad Hatter is, of course, a reference to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.
> 
> The note Alex is given by Remus Lupin is from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by JK Rowling, page 58, US hardback edition.
> 
> Chapter title from “Run Like Hell”, Pink Floyd, The Wall


	5. Where Do I Begin?

“Alex! Wake up!”  
  
Someone shook her shoulder. Alex cracked open her sleep-crusty eyes to an unfamiliar room and blinked owlishly at the canopy over the bed. Her body felt as if it had been run over by a convoy of trucks.  
  
For a moment, she did not know where she was or why her body was sore. A curious heaviness sat in her mind, as though there was something very important that she ought to remember. Then she looked up at Remus and in a heartbeat, the events that had transpired slammed headlong into her with the force of a train.  
  
She gasped. _How could I have forgotten the attack…my Mom…flying to London?_  
  
“Awake there?” Lupin asked. “Good, we need to get you going.”  
  
Alex sat up and ran a hand through her tangled hair. “Going where?” she mumbled. Her mouth felt like the inside of an old sneaker. Merlin only knew her breath probably smelled like one, too.  
  
“Here’s your wand. The lavatory is down the hall. Clean up and meet us in the kitchen.” Remus left without answering her question.  
  
Alex rolled out of bed and noted with distaste that she had slept in her clothes. Someone had been kind enough to remove her boots.  
  
 _Man, I must have been completely knocked out not have noticed._  
  
She fingered her wand for a moment, grateful to have it back in her possession, and then got moving. A quick hot shower later, along with a good scrub with a toothbrush, and Alex felt renewed. She debated what to wear and settled for a dark green sweater paired with black jeans and matching low-heeled boots. Then she deliberated over her leather biker jacket or a black trench coat with a silver inner lining and settled for the latter. Trench coats were the standard for American wizards. Plus it had more pockets.  
  
By that time, her stomach ceased with the gentle reminders it had been nudging her with and started complaining audibly. Alex couldn’t remember when since she had last ate, but it felt like it had been far too long. She grabbed her messenger bag and purse and headed down towards the kitchen hoping to find food.  
  
Alex noted the interior of the house looked more gloomy and run down in full daylight than it did in the late night hours when she had arrived. Hanging above faded and worn carpets was a snake-shaped chandelier. On one wall were mounted heads of what looked to be exceptionally ugly house-elves. How had she missed that? She shuddered and quickened her steps.  
  
In the kitchen, Remus was making tea. Different day, different robes, yet to it seemed his clothes still managed to have the same amount patches and wrinkles. Her observations of the wizard were cut short when she noticed there wasn’t a sign of a coffee bean anywhere.  
  
 _What is it with the obsession with hot tea? Have wizards here never heard of coffee?_  
  
Then her eyes lit on the clock sitting on the mantle and Alex stopped in her tracks. It was four in the afternoon. She had slept more than twelve hours. Little wonder her stomach felt as if it was trying to eat her spine.  
  
Sirius was talking animatedly to a purple-robed young lady when he spotted Alex standing in the doorway.  
  
“Here she is!”  
  
The young lady swiveled around in her chair, a smile on her cute heart-shaped face. Dark eyes twinkled below short punk hair that was a startling shade of hot pink.  
  
 _Too old to be a student, but not by much,_ Alex estimated.  
  
Sirius began the introductions, “Alexis, this is Nymphadora -”  
  
Both ladies turned on Sirius simultaneously and corrected him in the same instant.  
  
“Alex!”  
  
“Tonks!”  
  
They eyed each other and exclaimed, “Sirius!”  
  
With a mischievous smile, Tonks pointed a finger at Alex. “Hex!” Tonks cried out, beating Alex by a breath. They both giggled.  
  
Alex realized how much she had needed to laugh. The last time she had smiled had been when she saw her class schedule, before finding her mom in her room. Her giggling faded even as she came to that realization.  
  
Sirius rolled his eyes, too busy muttering under his breath about daft schoolgirls to notice the solemn cast of Alex’s face. “What is it with you two and your first names?” he demanded. “Even your mothers disliked their first names. Growing up, Andromeda preferred Andro. And Alex, your mom insisted on being called Adhara or just ‘Dhara instead of Rhiain. Is it some obscure familial trait I missed out on?”  
  
Alex tried to smile and focus on the conversation when she realized Sirius had asked her a question, but Tonks picked up the strain on her face.  
  
“Oh, Alex. Sirius and Remus told me about your loss. I’m so sorry. You have my condolences.” Tonks stood up to walk over to Alex when her feet got tangled in the chair legs. Only Sirius’ quick reflexes saved her from falling.  
  
“It’s ok.” Alex tried to smooth over the awkwardness that suddenly descended. _How am I supposed to respond when someone offers their sympathy?_ She hadn’t known when she was eleven and her stepfather had died; she still didn’t know, particularly when she hadn’t been close to her mother.  
  
Alex decided to sidestep the subject and just answered Sirius’ question. “Um, I don’t know anyone else not liking their name, but well, Alexis sounds so formal. Alexis Amaryllis Black. What a mouthful. Too proper for me.” Alex took the chair next to the one Tonks had nearly tripped over. “But hey, what did you mean by familial trait?”  
  
“Your mother and Tonk’s were sisters, and cousins to Sirius,” Remus answered as he set down a tray on the table loaded with tea and what looked like biscuits of some sort and a jar of jam. “Now, if we are finished with the Black family reunion, there are few things we need to discuss and not much time.”  
  
“Keep your fur on, Moony. At least let the girl eat first.” Sirius eyed Alex’s plate on which she had quickly piled on several of the biscuit-things she thought might be scones.  
  
She tried to speak around a mouthful. “Gor um.”  
  
Remus seemed to understand the gist of what Alex was trying to convey. “While you were sleeping, we were able to make arrangements. It was agreed that you would be best off at Hogwarts.”  
  
Alex dropped the scone back on her plate in shock and managed to dry swallow without choking. A flashback of the _National Inquisitor’s_ headlines passed before Alex’s mind.  
  
“Hogwarts? As in the school? I didn’t think they accepted exchange students, not like we did at AMA.” Alex’s disbelief bordered on comical, at least to Tonks. Remus ignored the vivacious witch and answered Alex.  
  
“Yes, Hogwarts, and you wouldn’t be an exchange student. You were born here in England, Alex, and received an invitation to attend,” Remus pointed out gently. “Headmaster Dumbledore is fully aware of your situation. In any case, you’ll be safer from attacks if you’re at Hogwarts. There are ancient spells and charms protect the school.”  
  
Sirius growled, “After last year, I’m not quite so sure that Hogwarts is all that safe.”  
  
“Then the rumors were true? It wasn’t an accident, a student was…murdered? And there was a Dark Mark in the sky?”  
  
“Unfortunately, yes,” Remus answered. “By order of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. However, it did not happen on the school grounds. Your mother was right, he has returned, despite what Ministry of Magic would have us believe.”  
  
“Let’s not forget that tosser of a Death Eater impersonating an instructor last year,” Sirius added. “Alex, you need to be careful while you’re there. Dumbledore can protect you better than anyone else, but there are a few students at Hogwarts whose parents were once Death Eaters and probably still are.”  
  
Tonks exchanged glances between Sirius and Remus before speaking up. “There are also those you can trust at Hogwarts, Alex. Like me. I’m the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”  
  
Alex examined Tonks. With her punk hair, purple robes, and Weird Sisters shirt, Tonks didn’t look like a professor even by laid-back American standards.  
  
Her look of skepticism made Remus’ lips quirk. “Tonks is not only an experienced Auror, Alex, she’s a Metamorphmagus,” he quietly informed her.  
  
At this, Alex glanced back at her cousin with renewed interest. Metamorphmagi were rare. Tonks screwed up her eyes painfully and abruptly her hair turned a violent shade of orange and her nose swelled into a snout.  
  
“So you would be my teacher?” Alex’s opinion of Tonks soared. It had always been her ambition to become a Dark Magic Violations Division Hunter – or DMV Hunter - after wizarding school. Perhaps Tonks could help her achieve that goal.  
  
Her cousin screwed up her eyes once more and her face returned to normal. “That’s right. Dumbledore sent me to escort you to Hogwarts. You’ll be there by dinner.”  
  
Remus interrupted, “There are a few items we must address first.”  
  
The few items took the better part of the next half hour. The first was the need for absolute secrecy regarding Sirius Black. The authorities were operating under the mistaken conviction that her older cousin was a murderer. The house they were in functioned as both a safe haven for Sirius and a clandestine meeting place for unnamed other members of the Order of the Phoenix. When Alex tried to ask additional questions about the Order, her inquiry was gently yet firmly rebuffed. She would have to wait to speak to Dumbledore.  
  
It was obvious to Alex that these were the people her mother had negotiated an exchange of information with for protection. That Alex did not have the information her mother had possessed didn’t appear to matter. They had been prepared to offer protection to Adhara and now it seemed by extension, to Alex; she was grateful.  
  
Transportation to Hogwarts was an issue. The normal method used by students was the Hogwarts Express, but the school had started the week before. As Sirius pointed out, the train wouldn’t necessarily be safe from attacks; neither would something they referred to as the Knight Bus. Apparating to Hogwarts was not possible either. Apparently, they did not share AMA’s relaxed stance on travel to and from the school grounds; nor did they utilize a permanent Portkey like her former school. Additional security measures stemming from the student’s death the previous year prevented the use of the Floo network for the moment. To top it off, the nearby village of Hogsmeade was also under the similar safety measures for the first month of the new term.  
  
“Okay, I give up. How exactly am I getting to Hogwarts?”  
  
Remus grinned wolfishly. “How good are you on a broom?”  
  
Then Remus explained the plan called for Apparating to an undisclosed location in the far north and flying the rest of the way in. Lupin and Tonks would act as escort and ensure that Alex arrived unharmed and in one piece at the school.  
  
“What about Sirius?” she inquired and was surprised when a dark look passed over his face.  
  
“No,” Sirius replied curtly and turned away to put his cup in the sink. “I’ve been told I need to stay here.” There was something off in the tone of Sirius’ voice. Neither Remus nor Tonks offered an explanation, so Alex dismissed it. She had other worries.  
  
The idea of going to any school other than AMA made Alex nervous. She knew AMA, all its hidden passageways in the lower and upper school buildings, all its secrets. She was familiar with the students, the instructors, and how things worked in general. In short, it had been home. Hogwarts was an unknown. Alex had no idea what the place would be like or how the students would react to her – a foreigner no matter what Remus said. _What will the rest of the teachers be like? Will the classes be the same?_  
  
“Ready to head off to school, Alex?” Tonks inquired.  
  
Her mind was reeling with the quickness of events. However, it did not escape Alex that if she still desired to be a DMV Division Hunter – and that goal certainly hadn’t changed despite the recent events - then it was imperative she finish her schooling. There was the matter of getting some answers to the questions regarding her mother.  
  
“Would it matter if I said no?” When both Tonks and Remus shook their heads, Alex touched the charm where it hid under her shirt. “Ok then. Let’s do it.”  
  
“Good. Let me gather a few things and then we’ll be off.” Remus departed from the kitchen.  
  
Sirius touched Alex on the shoulder. “Come with me, I want to show you something before you go.” Alex, carrying her messenger bag, followed Sirius upstairs to a long room with high ceilings. Several tapestries adorned the olive-green walls. Sirius crossed over to one in particular and gestured Alex to look as Tonks stood back and watched.  
  
The top of the tapestry had words written across it. Alex read it out loud, “The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.”* She looked over at Sirius and Tonks. “Is this – is this our family tree?”  
  
Sirius nodded. “This is what I wanted you to see.” He pointed to a section. There were several names connected with gold lines as well as two curious scorch marks, as if someone had pressed a cigarette against the tapestry. Bellatrix Black - _scorch mark_ \- Narcissa Black - _scorch mark_. Double gold lines linked the names of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black. From them a single line connected to the name Draco Malfoy.  
  
Alex’s blood went cold. She had heard the name Lucius Malfoy once before, from her mother’s lips. Adhara had been high on Warlock Dust and had raved bitterly, if briefly, about the past. Alex never learned whether it was the drugs talking that night or the truth.  
  
“-Tonk’s mother Andro and that mark is your mother, ‘Dhara. She started in Hogwarts a year behind me. Looks like my mother blew her name right off the family tree,” Sirius was saying, pulling her away from the dark memory.  
  
“Little ‘Dhara was my favorite cousin. She might have been a Slytherin, but for all that, she wasn’t bad. Shy with a wicked sense of humor. You even look like her a little,” Sirius reflected, mussing Alex’s hair. “We grew apart during the years at Hogwarts. That last year, though, she was very different, became secretive and then dropped out of Hogwarts.  
  
“When she contacted Dumbledore, ‘Dhara said it was because of family pressures and Lucius Malfoy. Afterward, she had gotten in so deep that she ran, fearing for her life. I wish I had known, maybe I could have helped her. I didn’t even know she had become a Death Eater or that she had fallen pregnant.”  
  
Sirius was silent for a moment, lost in memories. Alex found it strange that someone remembered her mother with affection. _What had Mom been like growing up?_  
  
Abruptly Sirius started speaking again. “Aside from Andro, she had two other sisters. There’s Bellatrix.” He tapped the name on the tapestry. “Stay away from her at all costs. I mean that, Alex. From your description, I think Bella might have been one of the Death Eaters that attacked you and ‘Dhara. I certainly wouldn’t put it past her. She’s dangerous and … well, deranged.”  
  
Alex was shocked wordless. _Hadn’t Mom yelled the name Bella before the Death Eaters had attacked her?_ The memory of a woman’s voice crying out the Killing Curse sent chills down her back. Her aunt had killed her mother.  
  
“Then there’s your Aunt Narcissa and your cousin Draco.” Sirius paused with his finger under Draco’s name. “You need to watch out for that one at Hogwarts, Alex. He’s a year younger than you and a Slytherin, through and through. Bollocks, they all are except Andro, Tonks and me. But you can wager your last galleon that Draco would tell his parents who you were if he found out and that would mean trouble. Lucius would turn you over to their master in a heartbeat. He was a Death Eater even though he claimed to be under the Imperius Curse.”  
  
“I’ll keep that in mind.” First her deranged aunt, now she had to be careful of her cousin and his father. Maybe her mother had had a good reason not to mention her family.  
  
“Speaking of galleons...” Alex slipped off her purse and dug out her wallet. She pulled out her only funds. “Here, Tonks. This should cover the cost of my school supplies.”  
  
Tonks held up her hands in refusal. “No, that’s not necessary.”  
  
Alex shoved the money into Tonks' hands. “Uh-uh. Supplies aren’t free, not the last time I checked.”  
  
Sirius started to make sounds of protest, but Alex cut him off. “Look, the courts declared me an emancipated minor at the beginning of summer. That means I’m supposed to be responsible for taking care of myself. So my supplies, my responsibility.  
  
“Tonks, that’s American Mundane – um - Muggle money. Someone will have to hit up Gringotts to exchange it. And while they’ll there, I’m gonna need a big favor.” Alex explained she held an account at the Gringotts branch in America. Could someone find out if it was possible to transfer the account to the London branch?  
  
Tonks reassured Alex that it wouldn’t be a problem. Then she sat down on an ancient looking wing chair and began curiously examining the foreign Muggle money.  
  
Alex glanced at Sirius. His lips were quirked into a lopsided grin and he eyed her with approval.  
  
“You’re a lot like me. I was on my own by the time I was sixteen.”  
  
“That, and you’re both Animagi,” Tonks interjected absentmindedly. She held a paper bill up to the poor light streaming through the grimy window.  
  
“That’s right, we even have similar forms. Yours is a wolf and mine’s the black dog you met at the station.”  
  
“Well,” Alex hesitated, “yeah.”  
  
Tonks shoved the money in her satchel and exchanged a guarded look with Sirius.  
  
“You aren’t a...werewolf, are you?” Sirius questioned cautiously.  
  
“No. We had one or two students back at AMA who were, but not me.”  
  
Tonks breathed a sigh of relief that was quietly echoed by Sirius.  
  
Alex didn’t tell them why she had hesitated. Although she could alter her shape, she was not a true Animagus. The wolf-bone and leather bracelet she wore was imbued with tribal magic and allowed her to take the form of a wolf. It had been a gift from her stepfather, one not quite authorized by those in charge of such things in his Cherokee tribe.  
  
“So, show me.” Sirius was so boyishly earnest that Alex couldn’t refuse him. She opened a door in the back of her mind and shielding her bracelet from view, touched it and silently called forth its magic.  
  
 _Waya!_  
  
Alex knew that when she shifted, her form shimmered and gleamed for just a heartbeat before settling into the new shape. This was not true when a proper Animagus took his or her form, but no one had ever called her out on it before.  
  
Sirius looked over her sleek grey form and whistled in appreciation. He was paying her an outrageous compliment when the door opened and Remus strode in.  
  
“Ah, this is where you disappeared to.”  
  
Alex flicked her ears at his voice and cocked her head at him. A distinct scent that was both spicy and musky tickled her nose. Her silver-grey eyes gazed into his warm, friendly eyes and abruptly Alex was overwhelmed.  
  
 _-an ancient forest, trees reaching into the night sky, moonlight piercing the branches – the scent of prey, spiced with fear – a flash of white darting between trees, a stag – chasing, heart pumping, gloriously alive, the ground flying beneath four feet – the taste of blood, so hot, sweet and salty, the coppery taste spilling into her mouth – a beautiful, pale wolf amid a field of fireflies –_  
  
A whine of fear and anxiety escaped Alex’s throat. She saw the darkness moving behind Remus hazel eyes. It smelled her, measured her. Strength greater than her own dominated her. A howl echoed in her mind, the song of the pack.  
  
 _‘Little cub,’_ it growled in her mind.  
  
She was unable to look at those eyes any longer. Alex bowed her grey head and bared her throat in submission.  
  
“Moony, what the bloody hell are you doing to her?” A man put himself in front of her. A woman’s voice rose and fell. There was a faint whiff of sadness mixed with jealousy.  
  
Then Remus was on one knee, extending a hand towards her. His voice was a low-pitched and rough.  
  
“Alex, it’s all right. Change back.”  
  
Her form shimmered, shifted. Alex was crouched on the floor, her breathing ragged.  
  
“You - you’re a werewolf,” she stammered.  
  
Remus’ sad eyes regarded her. “Yes,” he admitted. Alex eyed his proffered hand warily and then his face. Pain and regret flitted across his features at her rejection. Before he could withdraw his hand, Alex grasped it. Remus hesitated a heartbeat and then pulled Alex to her feet. She squeezed his hand briefly and let go.  
  
“Alex?” Sirius asked.  
  
She broke her gaze from Remus and addressed her concerned cousin. “I’m okay.” Alex was pleased her voice only shook a little. She noticed Tonks staring intently at Remus. The look of longing that crossed her face was unmistakable.  
  
“Merlin’s hairy arse, what was that about?” Sirius demanded, looking intently between Alex and Lupin.  
  
Alex tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear thoughtfully. She had experienced this only once before, but at such a lesser degree she had nearly forgotten about it. One of the guest speakers at AMA from the U.S. Bureau of Magic and the Supernatural had been a werewolf. Alex had only spoken to Agent Forsythe once, but when they had locked eyes, Alex had seen something lurking there. It had been nothing like this, though. No flashes of images or voice, if one could call it that.  
  
 _Maybe he’s an alpha werewolf?_  
  
From a wildlife perspective, what happened between Remus and her made sense. She knew wolves tended to live in structured packs and the pack leader was always a dominant male, an alpha male. All members of the pack submitted to the alpha male. Baring the throat was a common response to a failed challenge.  
  
“I – I think it was...wolf politics,” Alex explained her theory, skipping over her resources since she had a feeling that cable TV hadn’t quite reached the wizard world over here. “It makes sense, in a weird sort of way. Remus is a werewolf. He’s stronger, more powerful than me. I’m just, well, I’m a cub.”  
  
As much sense as it made, Alex did not like the implications. _Could Remus command me, demand my obedience?_ This unusual development made her uneasy. Then another thought hit her. _Was Remus the person Mom had whispered to her about?_  
  
 _‘Don’t be scared of him. He won’t hurt you.’_  
  
Remus’ apology interrupted Alex’s chain of thoughts. She would have to file it away to mull over later, but it seemed to fit.  
  
She listened as he told her that he had never met a wolf Animagus and certainly had not anticipated anything like this. It seemed to disturb Remus as greatly as it did Alex.  
  
Time waited for neither wolf nor student, as Tonks pointed out. All too soon, Alex stood just outside of Grimmauld Place next to Lupin with her messenger bag on her shoulder. Tonks watched with a frown as he put an arm around Alex’s shoulders before she Disapparated ahead of them.  
  
An amused Sirius leaned forward. “Alex, be sure to look up my godson, Harry Potter, when you get to Hogwarts. You’ll probably end up in Gryffindor with him. He should be able to fill you in on some of the past events. Give him my regards.”  
  
“I’ll be sure to do that.”  
  
“You know, you’re not half bad for being raised a bloody Yank,” he jested with a wicked grin.  
  
Alex treated him with a smirk of her own. “And you’re not half bad for a mangy, flea-ridden dog.”  
  
The last thing Alex heard as they Apparated was Sirius exclaiming, “Bloody cheek!”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from “Where Do I Begin?”, The Chemical Brothers, Dig Your Own Hole
> 
> The line “The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black”, is from “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix”, chapter six, page 111, written by JK Rowling, US hardback edition
> 
> Please note that although I reference Alex’s shape shifting to be of Cherokee origin, it is entirely fiction of my own making. No insult is intended to the Tsalagi Nation.


	6. Torn Between Two Worlds

Mid-flight, Alex remembered why she didn’t like brooms. The plane ride to England had been a little bumpy, however, it certainly beat being soaked and freezing while flying through a storm. Her trench coat had proven woefully inadequate against the tempest.  
  
The first part of the trip had gone off without a hitch. Lupin had Side-Along Apparated her to the middle of nowhere. Green hills extended for miles under dark and cloudy skies. Tonks had retrieved three worn but perfectly serviceable brooms from a rundown little hut. Then they had flown seemingly right into the storm.  
  
Flying had never been something she excelled at even in favorable conditions. Alex could get from Point A to Point B without falling off her broom, but even she acknowledged her skills would never win her a spot on a Quodpot team back in the States. Not that she was even remotely interested in Quodpot. _Quidditch,_ she amended. _They play Quidditch here._  
  
After being buffeted and tossed about the darkened sky for thirty minutes, Alex was ready to swear off brooms for the rest of her life. The scones and tea she had so readily scarfed down earlier sat like a leaden lump in her stomach. Lightning illuminated the blackened sky erratically and the bitter wind had frozen her hands to the broom. If she ducked her head and squinted just so, she could make out Remus flying ahead of her. Tonks flew behind her as rear guard.  
  
Before they had taken to the skies on their brooms, Remus and Tonks had explained some of the basics of life at Hogwarts. To distract herself from the nausea that was steadily building, Alex reviewed what she had been told. There were four Houses into which the student population of several hundred was Sorted.  
  
 _Lions, snakes, eagles, and badgers. Oh, my!_  
  
The whole House set-up seemed odd to her. At AMA there were no Houses. They had fraternities and sororities, but membership was limited to upperclassmen and was optional. Otherwise, everyone was simply grouped by the year they would graduate. Class of ’97 was how Alex’s year-mates had been referred to as.  
  
 _Four Houses, check. House points, check. House Cup, check. Dumbledore is the Headmaster, in charge of the Order, and the person Mom contacted. Oh, and there’s some weird hat that tells you where you belong._  
  
There was a chance that dinner would be over by the time they arrived. If so, Alex hoped the Sorting business would be privately done in the Headmaster’s office. Despite Lupin’s assurances that it was customary for every student to be Sorted in front of the entire school body, Alex wasn’t keen on the notion.  
  
Remus waved at Alex and pointed down. Through the sheets of rain, Alex could just barely make out lights below. She followed him into a steep descent. Out of the rain and darkness emerged a huge form. Lightning in strobe-like flashes revealed large stone towers and turrets standing strong against the onslaught and Alex instantly felt like she had flown into a portal to the past. AMA had been comparable to a modern college; Hogwarts resembled an ancient, forbidding castle straight out of some fairy tale.  
  
 _It looks like it would have a monstrous beast lurking within, some poor cursed prince just waiting for a fair maiden to set him free… not!_  
  
They landed in front of massive oak double doors. Remus gathered their brooms with a flick of his wand and Tonks pushed open one door.  
  
Alex followed Tonks inside and found herself inside a cavernous room. Suits of armor flanked the entrance. Torches and stone braziers flickered fitfully, but did little to illuminate the entire room. The ceiling was hidden in shadows. Alex trailed absentmindedly behind Lupin, peering at the marble staircase and then at the four huge hourglasses in the corner. Each was filled with what appeared to be different colored gemstones.  
  
Remus called to her before she could investigate further. He stood in the doorway of a small, unassuming chamber. Tonks promptly tripped over her wet robes and into Remus.  
  
“We’ve arrived late,” he informed Alex after he steadied Tonks on her feet. “By the sound of it, dinner is almost over, but Dumbledore knows we’re here.” He nodded to the closed set of double doors directly across from them. “He has the doors shut so he can properly announce you.”  
  
It was only then that Alex realized there was noise coming from behind the closed doors. The muffled voices of seemingly several hundred could be heard. Alex's stomach contracted with fear and her mouth became dry. They had arrived late, but not late enough it seemed.  
  
 _Announce me? Merlin’s flaming balls … why couldn’t we just do this Sorting thing in his office?_  
  
“Come here, Alex. Leave your bag in here and let me dry you out a bit while Tonks changes back into something more appropriate for a professor.”  
  
Tonks’ head jerked up at the suggestion and she flushed. Quickly, she pulled out something dark out of her satchel and left the room, leaving a trail of puddles behind her.  
  
Remus performed a warming spell that both dried out Alex’s clothes and brought back some life to her extremities. She returned the favor. Then Alex took a moment to examine her appearance in a mirror hanging in the small chamber. She was dry and relatively presentable. The green sweater, black jeans and trench coat were amazingly wrinkle-free. It made her briefly wonder why Remus’ robes still appeared rumpled.  
  
She quickly charmed a small braid of hair on her left side. Then Alex took a moment to dig out an earring decorated with a grey gorbey feather from her purse and hung it from her ear. A Yunwi had given it to her during her third year after she had killed the stray bird that had been attacking him. Yunwi held a great fear that the diminutive gorbey could steal their souls.  
  
One final check in the mirror. Alex strove to school her expression. The last thing she wanted was to face the entire student body, but if she had to it would be on her own terms.  
  
 _I’ll be damned if I’m going to walk in there looking like a little-lost-girl. I might have lost my mother and my school, but I’m not going to let anyone see me scared._  
  
“Alex?” Tonks inquired, standing in the doorway. Her cousin almost looked proper in the long dark robes, if Alex ignored that her hair was a startling canary shade; it matched the curious yellow and black insignia on her robes.  
  
Alex smiled at her cousin with a façade of self-assurance. “Just putting on my game face.”  
  
Remus led them to the closed double doors of the Great Hall. He spared Alex a sympathizing glance. “Remember, don’t talk to anyone about who you are or what happened at your school until you speak to Dumbledore. And Alex, try not to be nervous.”  
  
“I won’t, and I’m not,” Alex said, attempting to assure the both of them. Tonks simply nodded. Alex dropped her shoulders, rolled the fingers on her right hand one by one as if twirling her wand and gave Remus a curt bob of her head. With a tap of his wand, the doors swung open silently.  
  
Alex walked through the doors ahead of Tonks and was assaulted by the sheer volume of voices and sounds. A myriad of sights and scents stopped her in her tracks and, momentarily overwhelmed, she didn’t notice Tonks slipping away.  
  
She drank in the view. Four long tables were arranged side-by-side spanned the length of the room. Black robed students – _they wear uniforms here, oh crap, no one told me that_ \- talked and joked good-naturedly while eating a variety of desserts. Overhead the entire ceiling was enchanted, playing out each lightning flash of the storm she had just escaped. Suspended below the heavens yet above the tables were hundreds of lit candles.  
  
Hung on the walls were four enormous banners. A golden lion on a red-checked field hung next to a black badger on a gold background. On the opposite wall was a silver serpent on a green field, and next to it was a blue banner with a bronze eagle.  
  
A handful of the students closest to the doors noticed her arrival first, whispering furtively and pointing fingers in her direction. Alex didn’t notice, too intent on observing the front of the room where a long table was set perpendicular to the student tables on a raised platform. About a dozen wizards, witches, and what appeared to be a lone centaur populated it. Alex pegged them to be the teachers.  
  
The centermost wizard sported long silver hair and an impressive beard and wore voluminous blue robes. As though sensing her scrutiny, the wizard looked up and met her gaze. With a sincere smile, he stood and approached the podium located just in front of the high table. Alex recognized him as Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts.  
  
“Attention! Attention! I have one final announcement this evening. As I mentioned earlier, the American Magical Academy was recently beset by an unexpected disaster. Now I can reveal that in response, Hogwarts has opened its doors to three of their students, all expatriates. We are not alone in this gesture. A number of other magical schools, including Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang Institute, have also graciously opened their doors.”  
  
All Alex could focus on were Dumbledore’s previous words. _There are other students from AMA coming here?_ Hope flared in her chest.  
  
“That having been said, I would like to welcome Miss Alexis Hawks Talon, our first arrival from those far shores,” the Headmaster concluded. Those students who had not yet noticed her entrance turned. A sea of unfamiliar faces examined her awash a wave of silence.  
  
 _Hawks Talon. He called me Hawks Talon and not Black._ Alex barely had time to make note of that before Dumbledore spoke again.  
  
“Come, come. Let us Sort you into your House.” The Headmaster waved her forward.  
  
Alex flipped her sable hair back with a calculated toss of her head and strode down the aisle. She lengthened her stride and threw in a little sway to her hips. Her trench coat flared out behind her, exposing its silver lining.  
  
 _If you’re going to walk on thin ice, might as well dance across with style._  
  
Alex could feel the weight of everyone’s attention on her. As she passed students on either side of her, she could hear speculative comments. Somewhere among them was Sirius’ godson, Harry, just as well as her cousin, Draco. She put that flittering thought firmly out of mind and kept her focus strictly on the Headmaster.  
  
When she reached the front, she nimbly skipped up the stairs and firmly shook hands with Dumbledore. Up close, she was struck by the intensity of his blue eyes behind the half-moon glasses. A stern-looking older witch in tartan robes approached, her thin lips pursed. In her hands was a battered old hat that was poorly patched.  
  
 _This must be the hat Remus talked about. Now let’s see how this works._  
  
Alex placed it on her head. The brim slipped awkwardly low and in that instant, she felt a delicate touch in her mind. It traveled along the paths of her innermost sanctuary, like an unimpeded breeze ruffling through the trees, through her memories. Sucking in a quick breath through clenched teeth, Alex shoved away the mental assault. She blocked the paths to her mind and wove a defense of thick branches and vines. Even as her defenses were erected, she tore the hat from her head and clutching the brim, glared at it. Remus and Tonks had said nothing about the thing invading her mind.  
  
As the student body gasped and began to whisper, a tear formed near the brim of the Sorting Hat opened wide like a mouth. It drew in a deep breath and abruptly started to sing in a loud raspy voice that could be clearly heard across the Great Hall.  
  
  


  
_Unwavering courage resides in your soul,  
Bravery, daring, true virtues to extol!  
Those who embody the fierce lion’s roar,  
Belong to the House of Gryffindor!_   
  
_Or maybe that which sets you apart,  
Is the ambition burned in your heart!  
Those who embrace true cunning within,  
Belong to the House of shrewd Slytherin!_   
  
_There is much to gain here and far more to lose,  
Between these two Houses, which do you choose?_   


 

The room fell utterly quiet, not a soul spoke or moved. The silence weighed so heavily it felt hard to breathe. Alex stared down at the ancient, dirty hat in shock that it had spoken.

 _“Tla i‘go li‘ga,”_ she whispered in confusion. _It wants me to choose between a lion and a snake? What…Gryffindor or Slytherin?_

Cherokee lore held that the lion symbolized strength, power, courage and nobleness. The snake represented something altogether different. Unbidden, the memory of the emerald skull and snake glowing in the sky above AMA flashed through her mind. It was followed by the half-remembered image of water moccasins attacking her as a child. There was no way Alex was going to choose to be among the snakes, despite the name her stepfather had gifted her with before dying. Her mother had been a Slytherin and according to Sirius, so were the rest of the bad side of her family.

 _“Tlvdatsi,”_ she answered the Sorting Hat. “Lion.”

“Then it’s Gryffindor!” the Sorting Hat announced.

The tartan-robed witch took the hat from Alex with a look of suspicion mixed with surprise. Dumbledore clapped genially and indicated the table just left of Alex. There was a scattering of hesitant applause from the table in question. Most of its occupants seemed unsure of what to make of their newest addition.

Alex quickly made her way over and found an empty spot at the end closest to the head table. She was shaken and grateful to be able to sit before she tripped over something. The student to her left was a girl near her age. She had reddish brown hair cut in a cute bob and a curious yet friendly expression on her face.

“Well, that was remarkable. Never heard of the Sorting Hat singing out loud to a student to Sort them,” the girl murmured. “The last time we had such an entertaining Sorting was when Potter came along. I’d say it was well worth having to stay in the Great Hall for the entirety of dinner. I’m Jeannie Watson, by the way.”

“Alex. Glad I could provide entertainment,” she responded. Lupin had warned her off of talking about herself or her circumstances, so she left the conversation at that and turned her attention to the empty plate that suddenly appeared before her. The thought of food was still unappealing so she nudged it away.

 _How about an espresso?_ After a long moment in which nothing appeared, Alex concluded that espresso was not a staple at Hogwarts. _Okay, tea?_ she pleaded silently to whatever magic controlled the kitchens.

A steaming cup popped into existence. Alex resigned herself to the hot leaf juice everyone seemed to favor. _Where’s a Dunkin’ Donuts when you need one? Heck, I’d even settle for a Starbucks._

As she sipped the hot beverage, she observed her fellow classmates. She made note of the uniforms those closest to her wore, what she would probably end up wearing all too soon. _Goodbye sweatpants, so long jeans._ The majority of the students had robes that closed in the front; those that appeared to be the oldest students had robes that did not. The style was similar to what the professors wore; it draped from the shoulder and hung open.

_Do the different robes signify seniors – er, seventh-years?_

Two of those wearing the open-front robes were twin redheads that shared similar facial features with several others at the Gryffindor table. Alex guessed they were siblings or at least cousins. A messy-haired boy with glasses sat with the redheaded clan. When he caught Alex watching him, they exchanged nods. He looked remarkably like the photo in the National Inquisitor.

_So that’s Harry Potter. Now all I need to do is keep an eye out for my dear cousin Malfoy._

She turned her attention to the other tables across from her. Alex assumed from the banner these were the Slytherins. She shuddered to think that deluded old hat had actually offered her to the snakes. Finding Malfoy would have been infinitely easier had the hat done so; being discovered by the wrong people was just as likely. Alex could just make out a willowy girl with very long blond hair sitting next to a typical sports jock type. If she didn’t miss her guess, they were probably sixth-years like her; neither wore the open robes.

Writing off trying to spot someone she’d never seen from across a room full of strangers, Alex turned her attention to the High Table. _Time to check out the teacher line-up,_ Alex mused over the rim of the mug. An elderly witch with short grey hair was deep in conversation with what appeared to be an ancient dwarf of some sort.

Then there was Sourpuss who had handed her the Sorting Hat. At her side was Tonks, who promptly knocked over a goblet of pumpkin juice. The orange liquid splashed messily over prim tartan robes causing Sourpuss to, as expected, make a quite a fuss. Next to Tonks was the centaur Alex had spotted earlier. He had white-blonde hair and the golden body of a palomino. The centaur snorted at Tonks while she frantically tried to wipe up the juice.

At the far end of the High Table and directly across from the Slytherins was a formidable black-robed man with a thoroughly displeased expression on his face. Even from where she sat, she could see he had a beak of a nose. Alex privately nicknamed him the Vulture.

 _Oh, lovely. I can see I am in for a delightful year. What I wouldn’t do to have Professor Jordan as a teacher here. Is he even ok?_ Alex finished the last of her tea. Just as she replaced it next to the empty plate, everything disappeared from the tables.

Jeannie smiled conspiratorially and leaned over as if to whisper something to Alex when Dumbledore stood up and waved his hand towards the main doors. As they swung open and students began to wander out, he approached where Alex was seated.

“If you would come with me, Miss Talon?” It was not a question as much as a politely worded order.

Alex offered Jeannie a wordless shrug. Whatever the other girl had wanted to say, it would have to wait. As she followed Dumbledore to a door off to the side of the head table, Alex found herself crossing paths with the Vulture.

Close up, he was even more unpleasant-looking. Sallow skin was topped off by greasy, shoulder-length black hair. When he caught Alex staring at him, he sneered down the length of his nose at her. In response, she curled her lip in distaste.

Then the Vulture rudely shouldered by Alex and her body bumped hard against his unyielding black-garbed figure. An unexpected frisson coursed through Alex like a jolt of electricity. She physically shuddered, an echo of the shiver that reverberated in her soul. Her breath caught in her throat. A split-second later, it was over. They stepped past each other.

_What the hell was that?_

The Vulture turned and shot Alex an unfathomable glance. Heart racing, she dropped her eyes and pushed forward in Dumbledore’s wake. Alex tendered a heartfelt plea to the heavens that the Vulture would not be one of her teachers.

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

The Headmaster’s office was located on the sixth floor. A large stone statue guarded the entrance.

“Cockroach Clusters,” intoned Dumbledore and the statue swiveled around to reveal stone stairs. Alex wondered what enchantment had been used as she stood on what amounted to a magical escalator.

Caught up as she was in her musings, Alex was unprepared for the sight of Dumbledore’s office through the door. Scattered everywhere were mysterious objects that gleamed and sparkled; books were piled in corners on small tables. On the walls were moving pictures of what could only be previous Headmasters. Off to one side was the most extraordinary bird Alex had ever laid eyes on. Its beautiful plumage was a vibrant scarlet that ended in golden tail feathers. Intelligent black eyes examined her curiously. Alex had seen pictures of its kind before, but they didn’t come close to doing a living phoenix justice.

 _“Os da sv hi ye yi,”_ she greeted the phoenix almost reverently. “Good evening.”

“Ah, that is Fawkes,” Dumbledore said. He placed the Sorting Hat on a shelf directly behind his desk. The headmaster then took his seat and waved Alex toward a chair. She quietly sat down.

“Well then, Miss Talon. Welcome to Hogwarts. I only wish it were under more pleasant circumstances. You have my deepest sympathies regarding the loss of your mother.”

“Um, thank you.” Alex glanced down at her clasped hands in her lap and took a deep breath to settle her lingering nerves. Then she allowed herself a moment to take a good look at the man behind the desk carefully. He reminded her of Dean Whitmore, only magnified. There was a sense that not much escaped the penetrating gaze that lay behind the pair of half-moon glasses. It was an indefinable quality, one that she could not put her finger on.

 _Perhaps it’s something they teach them at headmaster school._ Alex chalked it up to some _‘je ne sais quoi’_ and left it at that.

Then her eyes fell on a shelf just behind the Headmaster. On one side was a small pot from which grew black lilies; the heavy black petals glistened and their delicate fragrance perfumed the air. A glass-inlaid box that held a distinctive Order of Merlin metal sat on the other side. Between the two was the Sorting Hat. She quirked her lips as she remembered what it had sung to her.

“The Hat, it usually doesn’t sing at students and offer choices, does it?” She waved her hand at the now silent object.

“As a matter of fact, no. A most unexpected beginning of your stay here, it would seem.” Dumbledore offered Alex some sweets that she politely declined.

Then from under a small stack of papers, he withdrew an altogether too familiar package. It was obvious either Sirius or Remus had managed to get it to Dumbledore, probably when she had been passed out for half the day.

“Alexis Amaryllis Black, daughter of Rhiain Adhara Black,” he said as he meticulously laid out the contents of the package. “I remember your mother well. Ancient Runes was Adhara’s passion when she attended Hogwarts. She belonged to Slytherin House.”

“From what I understand, the entire Black clan was Slytherin. Well, except for my Aunt Andromeda, Tonks and my … other cousin.” Alex carefully avoided his name.

“Sirius Black, yes, he was a true Gryffindor. Also, a bit of a troublemaker as I recall.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “I hope that is not an inherited trait.” Then his expression turned more serious. “I take it from your discretion that _Professor_ Tonks and Remus informed you of the need for secrecy?”

“Yes, sir.” Alex acknowledged his gentle correction with a bob of her head before she continued, “They also said you might be able to answer some of my questions.”

“Those that I can answer freely, I will.” The Headmaster stroked his long silvery beard thoughtfully.

“Was it really necessary to do the whole Sorting thing in front of everyone?” Merlin knew it wasn’t the important question Alex had, but it was the one predominately in her mind, especially with the Hat staring at her from behind the Headmaster. She wondered briefly whether it was sentient.

Dumbledore smiled, seeming to sense how uncomfortable the experience had been for her. “As a matter of fact, it was. Not only is it traditional for students to be Sorted in front of their peers, but to do otherwise would have drawn further unwanted attention, something I believe you would want to avoid after your recent experiences.”

Alex could concede the Headmaster had a point. They could hardly slip her into Hogwarts undetected and even if they could, the moment she opened her mouth, everyone would have known she was a foreigner.

“And that’s why you announced me as Hawks Talon in front of everyone?

“In my experience, I have found that it is often easier and more effective to hide a secret in plain sight. The dark wizards who attacked your school would be looking for a young witch with blonde hair bearing the surname of her mother, Black. They would not be as interested in one bearing the Native American name of her stepfather.”

She had her mother to thank for cleverly thinking to use Polyjuice potion. _Oh Mom, why didn’t you use it, too?_ But even as Alex thought about it, she realized there probably hadn’t been enough potion for two people. Her mother had placed Alex’s safety before her own.

“Were you going to hide my Mom in plain sight too? Was that the Order’s plan? Mom mentioned the Order, but when I asked Remus and Sirius about it, they clammed up.”

“You’ll have to forgive them, but I requested they withhold all information as it related to the Order until I could speak with you and impress the need for secrecy.” Dumbledore went on to explain that the Order her mother had mentioned was no less than a clandestine group of wizards who actively opposed Voldemort. Alex listened in surprise as she realized she had stumbled into a group who not only understood the malevolence behind what had destroyed her old school and killed her mother, but had fought against for many years. Fought and paid a price, according to Dumbledore’s brief rundown.

“So my Mom knew about you guys?”

“Yes, and no. Adhara did not know who stood among our ranks specifically, but as a former Death Eater, she most certainly would have known that I vehemently opposed Voldemort. That and before Adhara disappeared, I had offered her protection. Her incongruous behavior during her last days at Hogwarts was such that I had suspected there was more to it than mere familial tensions. When Adhara reached out to me after what befell during the Triwizard Tournament, it confirmed my old suspicions.”

Dumbledore rested his chin on his steepled fingers, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. “With regards to hiding your mother, the plan, such as it was, had been to escort her from America to Grimmauld Place. A week ago two members of the Order met with her in New York, but she refused to leave. She promised to come to London once she had located something she had lost. Or perhaps she had meant someone.”

The headmaster pushed the letter of acceptance to Hogwarts dated six years ago towards Alex. She picked it up and let her eyes skim over it once again.

“I wondered about that. The first time I saw it was like a day ago. How did you know I even existed if Mom disappeared without warning like you said? Did you know she was pregnant?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “There is a quill here at Hogwarts that records the names of all wizard children born in this region. When you made the decision to attend the American Magic Academy, the quill made a notation of such, although our original invitation had already been sent at that point.”

Her fingers distractedly played with a button on her trench coat as Alex attempted to absorb everything she had been told. It was a lot to take in, but still, questions lingered. She pointed to the letter Adhara had left partially written.

“Any idea what that scratched out part was about? Why she wrote that I was the key?”

Dumbledore held up the parchment in question. “Most curious, that section. It resists attempts of all forms of revealing charms. Whatever your mother originally wished to convey has been rendered unrecoverable. Perhaps she felt it was something best imparted directly to you, from mother to daughter.”

“Only she died before she could tell me. Damnitall,” Alex swore softly. Or had she told me? _Could what mom had whispered … no, that doesn’t fit the words I can read in that scratched out mess. She probably meant Remus._

Disappointment weighed on her. Then the realization of the expletive that had just slipped from her lips made her glance warily up at Dumbledore; she was relieved to find him unbothered. Dean Whitmore would not have been as forgiving.

The thought of the Dean of AMA forced thoughts of the school to the forefront of Alex’s mind. She sat forward and asked, “About my school, did anyone else get hurt? When the attack started, I told the Yunwi to get any students to the Portkey.”

The moment the word Yunwi passed her lips, Alex thought, _Does Dumbledore even know what they are?_

She went on to explain, “Yunwi are like House-elves. I saw one of them guiding Lori – the girl I looked like during the attack. And one of my teachers, Professor Jordan, was there, too. He fought while I got away.”

Dumbledore assured Alex that he had spoken with Dean Whitmore earlier that day. The Head of the American Magical Academy had expressed relief that Alex had escaped the assault safely and was at Hogwarts.

“The Yunwi reported your presence and departure. Apparently, they can see through the effects of Polyjuice potion. Quite a remarkable talent that, one that could be useful in the right situation.”

As Alex sat silently taking in that little tidbit of surprising information, Dumbledore went on to explain that Professor Jordan had been injured, but was expected to make a full recovery and that Lori Cahill had escaped unscathed due in large part to Alex’s quick thinking. There had been casualties, though. One was a new student Alex had never heard of and two were administrative staff members caught in the destruction.

The majority of the Academy itself had been razed to the ground. Dean Whitmore hoped to eventually re-open the campus. In the meantime, the rest of the student body had been split up among the world’s wizard schools. Two other students in particular that had born in the United Kingdom and raised in the United States would be arriving at Hogwarts in the next several days.

Alex’s initial excitement dwindled when she realized she didn’t know either of them; they both were several years behind her. She reclined back in her seat and gave herself a mental shake. If hiding her in plain sight was the objective, then maybe it was a good thing none of her old friends would be attending Hogwarts.

“Do you have any other questions?” Dumbledore inquired politely.

There were two that weighed on her. “About my Mom. Did they – did they find her, um …” Alex’s voice trailed off uncertainly.

“Her remains?” the Headmaster suggested gently. “No, I’m afraid not yet. But I can assure you that we will do right by your mother when they are found.”

There was a small measure of comfort to be found in that. At least her mom’s body wouldn’t be just dumped in an unmarked grave. Alex rubbed her arms and then asked the last thing on her mind.

“Before I was Sorted, you talked about the disaster at AMA, but you didn’t say anything about the Dark Mark or Death Eaters. Why not?”

“It would inadvisable for you to mention either of those facts to anyone,” Dumbledore responded quickly. “To do so would only serve as proof that you were present at AMA that night, and that would result in drawing the wrong attention.”

“So you think this Voldemort guy isn’t just going give up?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss Talon. That his followers openly pursued you into a crowded Muggle area is very telling. We must assume that you are still being hunted. Instead, I believe that it would be best to simply build upon the misdirection that has already been established.”

Because AMA had respected Alex’s preference of Hawks Talon as a surname on a day-to-day basis, this made it easier. There was no need for anyone to know she had been born Alexis Black. Dean Whitmore had given assurances that she would keep it secret; the majority of AMA’s official records had been destroyed in the fires in any case.

For her part, Alex would pose as the daughter of a former Hogwarts student. Annette Barrington, a Ravenclaw, had attended Hogwarts during the same timeframe as Adhara. After graduation, Barrington had had a daughter, moved to the States and died mysteriously later. A few negligible alterations on some documents and Alex had become Barrington’s daughter.

All Alex had to do was remember her new mother’s name, avoid all contact with previous friends or classmates, and go along with the official account of what occurred at the American Magical Academy. It sounded relatively simple enough until Alex read the official account of what happened at AMA in the National Inquisitor that Dumbledore passed to her.

 _What a load of crap! The adverse interaction between magic and Muggle technology resulting in a catastrophic explosion, my furry wolf ass! How do they explain that neon green skull in the sky?_ Alex fumed silently.

She didn’t have long to fume over the report, though, as Dumbledore shifted topics.

“Regarding your previous schooling, while I am disinclined to make negative judgments regarding the quality of education in other magical schools, I am forced to acknowledge that the training you received is not up to our standards.” Dumbledore ran a finger down yet another piece of parchment. This one appeared to Alex to be a handwritten transcript. “Specifically in the areas of Transfiguration and Potions.”

Alex sat dumbstruck for a long moment. “Wait - what exactly are you trying to say?”

A woman answered from behind Alex’s chair. “That you are not qualified for N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration or Potions.”

Alex jumped in her seat as Sourpuss walked over to Dumbledore’s desk. Her thin lips were pressed into a firm line.

“Excuse me?” Anger began to creep into her voice. “Transfigurations, I can understand - maybe. It’s not my best subject, but I’m hardly a failure. But Potions, that’s where I’m strongest. Best in the -”

Dumbledore held up a hand and spoke calmly. “Miss Talon, this is Professor McGonagall. She is not only Head of House Gryffindor, but our Transfiguration instructor and a member of the Order.”

 _Oh, shit!_ Alex stopped in mid-rant, staring at the Head of the House she had selected to be in. _And she’s an Order member. Open mouth, insert foot._ Alex took a deep breath and tried to match Dumbledore’s even tone; the words still came out strained. “Nice to meet you.”

McGonagall merely raised an eyebrow in response and turned to the Headmaster. “Albus as I have noted before, her marks simply do not qualify her for my advanced classes. I’m certain she would be better off taking Herbology or Divination.”

“I understand, Minerva. See to it that her schedule reflects your recommendations.” Dumbledore turned to Alex. “And now, Miss Talon, I must bid you a good evening. I am certain you are more than ready to retire to your House common room and meet your fellow Gryffindors.”

“But -”Alex started as Dumbledore turned his attention to another stack of papers on his desk.

“Come along,” McGonagall interrupted. “The Headmaster has a busy schedule and has spent more than enough time answering your questions.”

Alex stood up. “About my schedule -”

“We can discuss it on the way to the Gryffindor common room.”

Left with no other option, Alex reluctantly followed McGonagall down the moving stairs beyond the office door and into the hall beyond.

_Damnitall! Everything had been going well enough until Sourpuss arrived. What am I going to do? What can I say to convince her to let me in her class?_

“I’m a shape-shifter.” The words popped out of Alex’s mouth. If she couldn’t persuade this uptight woman to allow her in N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration, Alex would never qualify as DMV Hunter no matter how much help she had from Tonks. _So what if my shape-shifting isn’t a proper Transfiguration spell?_ Alex reasoned that shifting shapes in any manner belonged in the general realm of Transfiguration.

“The proper term is Animagus,” McGonagall corrected her brusquely as she strode down the stairs and then turned left into another hall. “It is a highly advanced form of Transfiguration. The number of wizards and witches who can claim this feat are few.”

Alex stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Arms crossed over her chest, she asked, “So if I can prove I can do it, will you accept me into your class?”

 _If fudging the truth gets me into that class, so be it. I’ll just study twice as hard._ All she could hope for was that McGonagall would not notice the subtle difference in shifting and see through her small deception.

McGonagall turned and regarded Alex with doubt before curtly nodding. Alex took two steps into a slightly darker area of the stone hallway, turned slightly to hide her fingers quickly brushing against the bracelet and called forth the wolf. It was a risk, but she was banking on the swiftness of the transformation and the dimmer light to help conceal the telltale shimmer.

Alex trotted over to the Transfiguration instructor and allowed her to inspect her new form. After a long moment, McGonagall reluctantly nodded her approval and Alex backed off a few paces. Once she transformed, Alex tried to keep the smugness out of her voice but couldn’t help that some still slipped out.

“So Professor McGonagall, am I in?”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starbucks is an utterly invasive coffee establishment that can be found on practically every corner where there is not a Dunkin’ Donuts.
> 
> Hot leaf juice is a reference to Avatar: The Last Airbender, Season 2, Episode 14, produced by Nickelodeon.
> 
> “Tla i ‘go li ‘ga” is Cherokee (Tsalagi) for “I don’t understand”; “Tlvdatsi” is “Lion”; “Os da sv hi ye yi” is “Good evening”. Cherokee lore claims that every animal represents specific spirit attributes or traits.
> 
> Chapter title from “Torn Between Two Worlds”, Allegiance


	7. Don't Let Me Get Me

By daylight, Alex’s initial impression of Hogwarts had been confirmed: it was if she had indeed stepped through some magical gateway and into an ancient world. The breathtakingly wild and rugged beauty seen from her dorm window was nothing short of amazing: the mountains in the distance, the primordial forest and dark lake, all surrounding a medieval castle that was Hogwarts. It was all so different than Storm Haven Isle and her former school.  
  
Thinking of AMA made Alex more than a little homesick. She could almost feel the salty breeze and hear the crash of the waves if she closed her eyes. It was still difficult to believe her old school was gone. By the time it was rebuilt, she probably would have graduated. The change was unsettling.  
  
 _What would stepfather say if he was still alive?_ she asked herself as she fingered the charm on her mother’s necklace. As if in response, a memory of him during his last days rose in her mind. _‘Everything in nature is constantly changing. The stars move in the heavens, the seasons come and go. Even our bodies change; at first we grow strong but eventually, we weaken.’_  
  
Her stepfather had held the belief that change presented itself in two forms: the coming together and the falling apart of things. It wasn’t something to be feared or hated; change was necessary and something to be accepted, including his own death. AMA’s destruction fell into the falling apart of things; arriving at Hogwarts was the former. Even her mother’s passing was a part of the cycle of change just as her stepfather’s had been.  
  
Alex pushed the heavy thoughts out of her mind. Hogwarts represented a new beginning born out of darkness, an opportunity that had been dearly paid for. What she needed to do now was find the silver lining and focus on that.  
  
She pulled her hair back into a single braid and grabbed her messenger bag. The contents had been dumped unceremoniously into the trunk at the foot of her bed last night. As she prepared for her first day, Alex casually tossed into the bag her radio walkman and her potions kit. Without a second glance, a single leather-bound book her stepfather had given her went in next. The yearbook went in as well on a whim; if she couldn’t be at AMA, then she could at least carry a part of it with her.  
  
The previous evening’s activities had left her exhausted. Alex had not been prepared for what had awaited her when she entered the Gryffindor common room. Her mind had been occupied with thoughts of the things Dumbledore had discussed with her.  
  
She had repeated the password McGonagall had given her and stepped into an ambush of questions. It seemed as if every Gryffindor from first to seventh-years had waited up for her. There had not been an American student at Hogwarts before in living memory, at least not according to a history book that had been passed around. Being the first of three arrivals, Alex had been immediately assaulted by a series of rapid-fire questions. There was a blur of names and faces as students had introduced themselves.  
  
Then a bushy-haired girl Alex had seen at their table in the Great Hall had taken over. After announcing she was a Gryffindor Prefect, she had started informing Alex of what seemed like an unending list of rules. Everything from nightly curfews and the use of magic in the halls, to the forest that was off-limits and how boys couldn’t go into the girls’ dorms. Alex had been in slight awe of how the girl could say so much without ever seeming to pause for a breath.  
  
Afterward, Jeannie and a seventh-year girl with curly hair and tanned skin named Tessera had swept in and saved her. Alex was grateful to whoever had set the three of them up as dorm-mates. Jeannie had fended off the nosier members of their House, pleading that Alex was ‘surely fatigued’. Tess had informed the Prefects that the Jeannie, Katie and she would ‘show Alex the ropes’. Finally, they had led Alex to the relative privacy of their dorm room.  
  
That was how her evening had ended. Now in the morning light, Jeannie poked her head into their room and examined her. “Alex, aren’t you ready yet? Where are your robes?”  
  
“My supplies and stuff are supposed to be coming in today.”  
  
Jeannie looked down at her own robes and then at Alex, who shrugged. Alex was at least a handspan shorter than her roommates. Even if there hadn’t been a difference in height, she just wouldn’t have felt comfortable asking to borrow robes, not when hardly knew her roommates.  
  
  
“Well then, we better get down to the Great Hall. The owl deliveries usually come in during breakfast. Tess is already there.”  
  
“You have owl deliveries here? Cool.” Owl posts had been banned at AMA. They had to make due with once a week deliveries from Merrymount Landing because of the Yunwi’s natural fear of predatory birds. Of all the familiars common to wizards and witches, owls were the only ones prohibited at AMA.  
  
Down in the common room, a large piece of parchment was posted on the notice board. She didn’t remember seeing it the previous evening, so Alex stopped a moment to read it.  
  


_**Gallons of Galleons!  
Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? *** _

 

“Alex, come on!” Jeannie tugged on her sleeve, pulling her away before she could read the rest. Alex only caught a glimpse of the names at the bottom, that of a Fred and George Weasley.

Jeannie led her to the Great Hall, where students gathered in groups at their tables. Alex found herself smiling at the hustle and bustle. The familiar excitement that always accompanied the start of a new school year was starting to seep in, even if she was technically a week behind everyone else.

After retrieving her schedule from McGonagall, Alex sat with Jeannie and Tess and eyed the breakfast spread. There were black sausages in a sauce, toast, jam, tiny fish, heaps of bacon, and some sort of dish of potatoes and greens. The bagels and yogurts that Alex typically enjoyed were not present. More importantly, there was a distinct lack of espresso. Since waking up, Alex had felt the beginnings of a caffeine-withdraw headache creeping in. She looked up and down the table before resigning herself to a breakfast of bacon and toast washed down with yet more hot tea.

_Is it possible to drink enough tea to get a decent caffeine kick?_

Jeannie waved at an incoming group that included their dorm-mate Tess, a bespeckled younger Gryffindor and a set of twins. “The one in the glasses is Potter and the twins are Fred and George Weasley. Those two are our resident pranksters.”

“Watch out for them,” Tess chimed in with a bob of her head that sent her black curls bouncing. “Nothing but trouble.”  
  
“Hey, now!” the twins protested innocently, sitting down next to them.

“You two the ones that put that sign up in the common room?” Alex asked.

“That’s us! I’m Fred,” the first one said.

“And I’m George. So, are you interested?”

“No, she’s not,” the young bushy-haired female Prefect from the previous evening answered before Alex could draw a breath. “Do you really expect McGonagall is going to allow you to advertise for testers? Honestly!”

Fred and George muttered under their breaths about nosy Prefects as more students filed by, including two that appeared to be their siblings, and then they settled down on the other side of Jeannie.

Jeannie rolled her eyes. “That’s Hermione Granger if you forgot her name, one of our new Prefects. You might remember her from last night. Next to her is Ron Weasley, another Prefect. Mind your P’s and Q’s around all the Prefects, regardless of House. They’re responsible for helping enforce the rules.”

Alex had no idea what P’s or Q’s were. Jeannine had already turned to the twins and was asking, “So, what are you two cooking up that has Granger’s knickers all in a twist? Or do I even want to know?”

As the twins animatedly began to explain the finer details with the occasional interjection by their brother, Ron, Alex turned her attention to the student across from her. Harry was quietly tucking into his breakfast. Alex drew in a breath, on the verge of speaking, and then halted. Sirius had told her to look up his godson, that Harry could fill her in on past events. Dumbledore, on the other hand, had warned her to tell no one about her identity or the real story behind AMA’s destruction.

_But did Dumbledore mean Potter, too? If the papers are half-right, then he’s seen a lot; he already knows about Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and can probably keep his mouth shut._

“You’re Potter, right?” Alex asked.

The boy in glasses she had exchanged nods with last night looked up inquiringly. Behind the glasses were intelligent green eyes. “That’s me.”

“A mutual acquaintance sends his regards.” Alex shot him a knowing look, but Harry examined her with confusion.

“I don’t think that I know any Americans.” He shook his head and in doing so, the hair over his forehead moved. Alex caught a glimpse of the renowned scar.

_So the tales at least had that part right._

“Not American, someone in London.” Still seeing his confusion, Alex elaborated, “Kind of a tall guy, dark hair…has a big, black dog?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alex cocked her head to the side. Was it her imagination or had Harry’s eyes narrowed suspiciously the moment she said the word dog? “Sorry, my bad.” Her voice dropped lower. “I thought you knew my cousin.”

Harry shot a look at his friend Ron, but he was still busy talking with Jeannie and his brothers; it was obvious he hadn’t heard Alex’s words. Harry rubbed his forehead as he turned back to her.

“Look, he said we should talk. How ‘bout later?” Alex inquired softly. He nodded, eyeing her warily.

_I guess if the papers were calling me delusional, I’d be careful talking to strangers, too._

“Hey Tess, I know McGonagall teaches Transfiguration and Professor Tonks handles Defense Against the Dark Arts, but who is in charge of Charms, Ancient Runes, and Potions?”

A diminutive, ancient-looking wizard by the name Professor Flitwick was pointed out to her. Charms was the first class of the day for sixth-years.

Just as Tess was about to discuss the other classes, a stream of owls bearing mail descended upon the Hall. A miniature flock dove straight for Alex, dropping heavy bundles in her lap and on the table in front of her before swooping off.

The Order had come through with the promised supplies: textbooks, parchments, and quills. There was even a copper-bottomed cauldron and a scale among the items delivered. Robes and uniforms, on the other hand, were not. A brief note explained that Alex could expect those to arrive the following day.

“It’s a shame the tailor in Hogsmeade retired last year. Gladrags Wizardwear doesn’t sell uniforms, but in a pinch, you could have gotten her to alter a few,” Jeannie noted.

Tess picked up the thread of conversation. “My aunt said she’s looking into opening a dress robes shop in Hogsmeade in a few months, not that that helps you now.”

Alex glanced down at her outfit. Dark grey sweater, black slacks, and soft, flat boots. She stuck out like a sore thumb without the student robes and uniform, but hoped that the teachers would understand. It was one of her dressier outfits; the jeans she normally wore, along with the occasional sweatpants, didn’t seem appropriate at Hogwarts.

“But hey, I don’t foresee a problem, Alex,” Jeannie teased her Alex as she held up the Divination book she had carried downstairs from their room. Apparently, Jeannie was taking the subject. “I predict your instructors know your arrival was a bit unexpected.”

Alex was glad she hadn’t ended up with Divination. Getting into Transfiguration class had been tricky enough. She had a feeling she might need to dedicate her Study Hall period to McGonagall’s class. It wasn’t as if Hogwarts offered the equivalent to Professor Docker’s Alternative Divinations with Mundane Methods, either. Run of the mill tarot cards and tea readings held no interest to her.

Jeannie’s words sparked a thought that had Alex pulling out her radio walkman. Even if she wasn’t taking Docker’s class, she could still play around with his unique approach to Divination.

She also pulled out from her messenger bag a handsome leather-bound journal filled with blank pages. The black bookmark ribbon denoted it as the sixth in a set of seven books handcrafted by her stepfather. They had been a parting gift to be used for school, one for each year. Etched predominately on the cover was the image of a bird in flight along with a set of words written in Cherokee alongside. Foresight, mystery, transition, secrets and enlightenment: these were the spiritual attributes listed.

It had been at the end of the preceding school year when she had last taken more than a glance at the journal and at that time the cover had been blank. With the advent of the first full moon at the close of summer, the latent magic imbued in the leather cover had revealed this year image of an owl with distinctive ear tufts and barred wings.

Near the bottom of the cover were five small squares lined up horizontally and within which were pictures of different animals featured from previous years. Her fingers ran lightly over them in chronological order: the bear for her first year of school, then deer, raven, wolf, and lion.

 _That’s right, last year was the lion._ She didn’t need to look up at the Gryffindor banner to appreciate the irony. It made her question whether her stepfather would have selected the lion for this year and not the owl had he been alive to see her ending up Hogwarts.

With a slight shake of her head to clear her thoughts, Alex opened it up and flipped past the first several pages. Those she would save for later. Maybe she would draw the Hogwarts crest and list her instructors. At the top of the third page, she wrote the date.

The moment Alex turned on the walkman, Hermione squawked, “What are you doing with that?”

Alex glanced at the frowning prefect. “I’m going to listen to music. Is there some rule against that?”

“But it’s a Muggle device. It won’t work at Hogwarts,” Granger insisted in a superior voice that grated on Alex’s patience.

“Yes, it will. A special protective charm was cast on the outer case. Believe me, we used electronics all the time at AMA.” Alex flicked it on and fiddled with the dial. The first song that she could make out between bursts of static she recognized instantly as _“Bohemian Rhapsody.”_ Alex hummed along as noted it in her book.

“You do realize that it was the negative interaction between Muggle technology and magic that caused the explosion at the American Magical Academy?” Hermione pulled out a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and pointed to an article.

“After everything, you’re still reading that nonsense?” asked Harry, clearly irritated.

Alex put down the quill and regarded the newspaper with something close to disgust. She would keep her promise to Dumbledore to stick with the official story, but it annoyed her nonetheless. “You shouldn’t always believe what you read, Granger.”

“I don’t, Talon. However, it’s unlikely that they would just make it up, not with the U.S. Bureau of Magic and the Supernatural’s backing. The details in the report came directly from them.”

“Yeah, well, hasn’t your Ministry decided that Potter here is a delusional attention-seeker? At least, that was what the correspondent from the _Daily Prophet_ reported in the _National Inquisitor_. And if I remember correctly, there also some article claiming you dumped Potter for some Belgium guy. Or maybe it the other way around?”

Hermione blushed furiously while the Weasley twins snickered.

“Shiss gock uh oind, ‘Mione,” Ron tried to speak around a mouthful of sausage.

“And I am not delusional!” interrupted Harry furiously.

“ _I_ never said you were,” Alex answered curtly before dropping the subject altogether. It seemed to her that she struck a raw nerve. That or else Potter had a short fuse.

Shaking her head, she wrote down the next song that she found as she spun the dial. It was _“Authority Song”_.

“So what is that little thing? And what are you doing with it?” Jeannie asked.

Alex explained about the radio walkman and how it was possible to pick up radio signals from far away depending on current humidity and the curvature of the Earth. Then she went on to explain the foretelling method Professor Dockard was pioneering: predictions via random song playlists.

“It’s simple. Every morning you turn on the radio to a Mundane – er, Muggle - station and write down the first three songs that come on. One predicts the immediate future. One is an indicator of things to come or those things in the past that will influence the future. The leftover song is just tossed out, unless it keeps coming up day after day.”

“Sounds a bit wonky to me, like that newsletter Luna is trying to put together.”

“Divination as a whole is wonky, Ron,” Hermione replied.

Alex ignored both of them. “I thought I’d at least give it a try.”

“But you’re not even taking Divination,” Tess pointed out.

Alex shrugged in response. “Hogwarts only offers normal Divination, not Alternative Divination with Mundane Methods.”

By this time the third song had started, _“Pressure”_. She studied her list of three songs. Then she remembered the songs that had popped up the last time she had listened to the radio. The first three songs she heard that day were _“Gimme Shelter”, “Witch Hunt”_ , and _“Highway to Hell”_. She quickly scribbled them at the top margin of the page.

The first set of titles and the events they led up to gave her chills. Was it mere coincidence or was Dockard right about his unique method of foretelling the future? _Too bad I can’t contact him to ask,_ she mused as she put away her walkman.

“Harry Potter, good morning to you. Mars shines bright in the heavens this year.” The voice pulled her out of her musings. It was the centaur Alex had spotted among the teachers earlier. Harry greeted Firenze by name.

The centaur then turned gracefully for such a large creature and nodded to Alex. _“Os-da sunalei,”_ he intoned, greeting her in the Cherokee language.

Alex was so shocked had she not been seated, she’d have fallen over. As it was, she had to put a hand on the bench to steady herself. _“O-si-yo._ Y-you speak Tsalagi? I didn’t think centaurs knew that language.”

“Only a few words. I was the only one in my herd who cared to learn.” He tilted his head and the pale blond hair partially covered his face. “Destiny approaches, Hawks Talon.” With those words, Firenze departed.

“Merlin’s flaming balls,” she whispered as she watched Firenze exit the Great Hall. “Jeannie, what exactly does he teach?”

“Divination,” Jeannie replied, mildly amused at Alex’s reaction. “Our former instructor, Professor Trelawney, had a mental breakdown over the summer. Dumbledore asked Firenze to take the position.” She tapped the stack of books and supplies in front of Alex, smiling mischievously. “Better put these away or I foresee that we’ll be late to Charms.”

Alex rolled her eyes at what she counted was the third lame Divination joke. She had to admit, Jeannie had a point. It was a good thing her messenger bag could accommodate the pile of supplies she had. Tess and Jeannie helped her load the bag and then they set off.

As they reached the doors of the Great Hall, a foreboding figure approached. Dark eyes inspected her briefly with a flat, unemotional stare. Alex narrowed her eyes in response and coldly turned away from the Vulture. She had no idea what the weird sensation had been last night when they crossed paths, but she couldn’t help but shudder inwardly as she walked passed him.

_Ugh! What is it about him that makes my skin crawl?_

In the Entrance Hall, Alex asked, “The teacher that just passed us, the one with greasy black hair, who was that?”

Tess’ lips twisted and she answered, frowning, “That’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions. I’m so glad I dropped his class.”

“Potions? Tell me you’re joking. Not Potions!” They were climbing up the marble stairs on the way back to the common room.

The Vulture teaches my favorite subject?

Jeannie turned an odd look at Alex. “You might want to be careful dealing with Professor Snape, Alex. He dislikes Gryffindors in general, but he’ll probably take a greater dislike to you specifically.”

“Why?”

“The Sorting Hat offered you Gryffindor or Slytherin and you chose Gryffindor,” her roommate explained patiently. “Professor Snape is Head of Slytherin House. Your decision was a bit of a slap in the face, if you catch my meaning.”

“Let’s not even mention you were dressed in Slytherin colors at the time,” Tess said.

 _Had I been? Green sweater, black jeans and trench coat, silver on the inside of the coat._ Alex slumped when she realized Tess was right; she had matched the Slytherin banner while choosing another House. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

 

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

Charms turned out to be a wonderful class. Professor Flitwick was an excellent teacher. As far as Alex could determine, she was on par with the other students. The sixth-year Gryffindors shared the class with the Ravenclaws. Jeannie made sure to point out their Ravenclaw classmate, Isolde Worthington, was also a Prefect. The concept of Prefects and Head Boy and Girl were foreign to Alex. She just nodded and mentally noted to watch the rules while around any of them.

Transfiguration was a different experience altogether. Professor McGonagall had accepted her into the class with reservations, and as Alex swiftly discovered, with good reason. The class was difficult and it seemed that McGonagall held higher expectations of her Gryffindors than she did the Slytherins who shared their class.

It didn’t help that Alex was spotty at Transfiguration. She could vanish inanimate objects easily and typically could disillusion an item without a problem. However, she often botched spells on animate objects and didn’t understand why. It was frustrating.

If there was any doubt over how the Slytherins took Alex’s decision to be a Gryffindor, it was quickly put to rest. Cressida Solanum, the tall willowy blonde girl Alex had spotted at the feast, made snide remarks about Alex’s lack of skill. Alex mentally dubbed her the Barbie-Doll Bitch of the Dungeons. Perfect hair and a perfect face to go along with her perfectly nasty attitude.

Her fellow Slytherin, Ian McCready, pointedly asked McGonagall whether certain students had been “let in the class out of pity because everyone else has had to earn their way into this class.”

Jeannie whispered that McCready was a Prefect and Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He might have the look and physique of the typical dumb broom-jock, but he was easily the most talented sixth-year student where Transfiguration was concerned.

When McGonagall stepped outside her class for a moment, Alex decided she had had enough of the catty remarks. She took the opportunity to shift into her wolf form and gave the shocked Slytherins a grin full of sharp teeth before reverting. Alex doubted anyone else could change forms. The rest of the class looked at Alex with different eyes and grudging respect after her display.

The sense of optimism and confidence that had buoyed her through the morning classes started to taper during lunch. Granger cornered her as soon as Alex walked in.

“Talon,” Granger began, “I understand that you’re an Animagus. A wolf, correct?”

Alex nodded, surprised at how quickly gossip had flown through the halls. _Who called in gossip 911? Geez!_

“I know you were probably overwhelmed last night, but you need to remember that not only is there a curfew, but the Forbidden Forest is strictly off-limits.”

With a frown, Alex stared at Granger. “Okay…and you feel the need to tell me this again, why?”

Heaving an exaggerated sigh, Granger answered in a tone that was rapidly becoming more irritating to Alex with each passing word. “A creature resembling a large wolf was seen last night at the edges of the Forbidden Forest. I don’t think you’ll get in trouble this time, but you will if you continue.”

“But I didn’t-” Alex began to protest and was cut off.

“Talon, the Forest is dangerous. You simply have no idea the type of creatures that inhabit it.” With that, Granger turned on her heel and headed out of the Great Hall.

Alex watched her leave, torn between aggravation and curiosity. She spent the entire night in her dorm room. Twice in less than twenty-four hours, Alex had been warned away from the Forest, which to her mind meant it was worth investigating, especially if there was a wolf about.

_If I’m lucky, perhaps even a whole pack. I haven’t spent time with a wolf pack since stepfather’s death._

Alex sat down next to Jeannie.

“What was that about with Granger?” her roommate inquired.

“You know, I have no idea. Ever since I walked in, she’s been all over my case. Don’t do this, don’t do that, remember curfew. Does she ever let up? I mean, you’ve got one of those badge things on your robes, too, and you’re laid back.”

Jeannie shrugged. “Don’t take it personally. I think it’s because Granger was just made Prefect. She’s a bit of a know-it-all and perfectionist. She probably doesn’t want to mess up.”

Her roommate finished up her lunch and headed off to Divination. Alex was glad to have a moment of privacy to organize her thoughts, although she would have appreciated if at least one of her roommates were in her next class. According to her schedule, she had double Potions that afternoon. For the first time since she’d started wizarding school years ago, Alex did not look forward to Potions. Something about the Vulture rubbed her the wrong way.

_Whoever heard of Potions being held in the dungeons anyways?_

At AMA, Potions was held in a large well-ventilated room equipped with comfortable stools. Her favorite thing, though, were the huge windows that faced the ocean. The view of the churning waters from the classroom was beautiful and ever changing year round.

With a sigh of longing for the school days of the past, Alex trudged down the stairs from the Entrance Hall and made her way along the darkened corridor. She delayed entering the class until the last minute, fidgeting with the buckle of her messenger bag.

_Okay, you can do this, Alex. It’s Potions. You were learning the characteristics and uses of ingredients when most kids were just learning their alphabet in kindergarten. Just blow the Vulture away with your brilliance._

It was Alex who was blown away when she entered the classroom. Half of the students seated in the class were fifth-year Gryffindors. She spotted Granger seated with Weasley. Potter sat alone at a desk at the front.

Alex halted just inside the doorway and looked down at the schedule in confusion. This couldn’t be right. She was supposed to be in sixth-year Potions.

“Well, well…our American Gryffindor,” a low voice uttered directly behind her, in a tone that was equal parts ominous and mesmerizing.

Alex stiffened and spun about. She found herself faced with a line of tiny, black buttons on a black coat. Her eyes followed the trail of buttons up to the daunting visage of the Vulture.

“Is it your intention to block the entry way or do you perhaps plan on finding a seat, Miss Talon?”

Instinctively, Alex took a few steps back and Professor Snape swept by. Alex turned and watched his progress. There were open whispers as the students recognized Alex. The Gryffindors she was familiar with frowned in bewilderment.

From the front of the dungeon, Snape eyed her darkly.

“Talon, are you incapable of finding a seat?” He flicked his wand and the empty seat next to Potter leaped away from the desk.

“No, I — that is —” Alex cut short her hateful stuttering. “This is not sixth-year Potions.”

“No, it is not,” he responded coolly. “Nor do you possess the necessary acumen for N.E.W.T level Potions. Due to your distinct lack of proficiency, you have been placed in the fifth-year class in a … remedial capacity.” He enunciated the last two words slowly as if savoring them.

At this several students laughed out loud, in particular, a fair-haired boy with icy grey eyes.

“Lack of proficiency?” she asked Snape incredulously. _Is this man serious?_

The class seemed to hold its breath as the confrontation unfolded. Alex strode forward up the main aisle until only a few feet separated her from him.

“I have studied Potions for close to ten years.” The anger escalating inside was evident in her voice.

“Then you are even more dim-witted than I initially estimated.” Snape crossed his arms as Alex's mouth dropped at the insult. “Tell me, in your extensive studies did you learn the difference between aconite and monkshood?”

“There is none. Wolfsbane goes by either name.” Her prompt answer didn’t slow the professor down.

“If I were to use lacewing flies and shredded Boomslang skin, what type of-”

Alex cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Polyjuice.”

She held her ground as he slowly closed the distance between them and loomed over her. The glacial tone of his voice dropped to almost a whisper. “Name two uses of jobberknoll feathers.”

Alex was forced to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. “Memory and truth serums.” With both fists on her hips in a cocky stance, she arrogantly inquired, “Anything else you’d like to know?”

“Indeed. What is the antidote to hellebore, belladonna, and faebane?”

The question gave Alex pause. She had never heard of faebane, never mind the fact she no idea what type of concoction would include two of the deadliest known poisons.

Snape’s lips twisted as the silence drew out. “Don’t know?” he mockingly asked. “Hmmm … what is the third step in preparing Amortentia?”

Although she knew well what Amortentia was, Alex had never brewed it before. It was a sixth-year level potion, something she expected to be studying this year. She grudgingly shook her head.

“Nearly ten years of studies, you have yet to cover Amortentia? Pity.” Snape pointed to the empty seat at Potter’s desk. “Take your seat, Miss Talon.” Halfway to the front, he paused. “And ten points from Gryffindor for being out of uniform.”

In a confused mix of reluctance, resentment, and self-righteous anger, Alex turned and slipped into the seat next to Harry. Potions was turning out to be worse than she could ever imagine. Snape had stuck her in a class one year behind her current level and humiliated her in front of everyone. Then to top it off, he had reprimanded her for not being in school uniform.

Snape briefly lectured the class on a standard strength serum before he charmed the directions on a blackboard and set the class to brewing the potion. Alex took a hard look at the blackboard. This was the same potion that Professor Jordan had covered last year. However, Alex knew a better remedy. She started pulling out ingredients from her personal potions stock.

Twenty minutes later, as the rest of the class was still struggling through the first half of the standard potion, Alex was putting the finishing touches on hers. Snape stalked down and aisles and stopped at her desk.

“What exactly is that supposed to be?” He stared down at her cauldron where an opaque liquid was bubbling merrily. “A properly prepared strength serum is pale blue, Talon.”

Alex smirked. “Your version might be, but it’s not half as good as mine.” His nostrils flared in a telltale warning that Alex ignored. Seated next to her, Potter nudged her leg. “Not only does Wolf’s Milk have a longer effect, but it requires less ingredients and is faster to whip up.”

His face an emotionless mask, the Vulture questioned, “Wolf’s Milk?”

“It’s a Native American potion.” Her stepfather had shown it to her years ago.

“The assignment I tasked you with was the strength serum shown on the board, Miss Talon, not some backwoods swill.” He pointed his wand at her cauldron and vanished the contents. “Now, you will follow the instructions given and brew the proper potion before the end of this class.”

Teeth clenched at the insult and the disposal of her potion, Alex sucked in a sharp breath. Several vulgar phrases suggesting just where he could shove his wand leaped to mind.

“Is that clear?” the Vulture questioned.

Alex almost bit her tongue in an effort to contain her rage. Harry kicked her under the desk but she ignored his silent warning.

“Yes.” The word was forced out. Snape continued to stare down at her. His lip curled as he waited.

“Sir,” he asserted.

“Actually I prefer ‘Ma’am’, but if you insist, ‘Sir’ will do,” she taunted. Someone snickered from the back of the class. The Potions master, however, did not find her obstinacy amusing. His expression became menacing.

“Detention, Talon, tonight at eight sharp. And twenty points from Gryffindor for your cheek.”

Her anger bubbled up, slipping over the edge like an overflowing cauldron.

“A little detention and some points, that’s it? That’s all you got?”

Snape lunged down over her desk with startling swiftness, both hands planted on the desk. The fumes from Potter’s cauldron spiraled up and the low flame cast the professor’s face in ominous shadows.

“One week of detention, Talon!” The stillness of his face belied the barely restrained anger that gleamed in his eyes.

The desk rattled slightly at Potter’s not-so-subtle warning. Snape’s eyes flashed at his usual target.

“Potter, do you have a problem with your leg? Perhaps you would like to join Talon in detention?”

Harry steadily met his gaze. “No, sir.”

Snape twirled and stormed off. Alex stared at her empty cauldron and seethed internally.

 _The nerve of that jerk! Vanishing my potion! Calling it ‘backwoods swill’._ With a growl beneath her breath, Alex pulled out the necessary ingredients for the strength serum. Her silver knife flashed as she rapidly cut the root component. And a week of detention! I never once served detention at AMA!

Thoughts of slicing the Potions master into small pieces and making some backwoods swill out of him filled her head for the duration of the class. She paid no attention to the other students nor did she take note of Snape’s close observation of her technique.

As the minutes left trickled away, Alex hurried to complete the potion. Just as she was completed the final step, the bell marking the end of class rang. She finished and was reaching for the sample phial when Snape stepped up, dark eyes locking on hers.

“Time’s up.” With a contemptuous flick of his wand, Snape vanished the contents of her cauldron. At the same moment, Alex felt a wraithlike touch graze the boundaries of her mind, intangible fingers that sought her thoughts.

Infuriated at the invasion, Alex leaped up and snarled, “You bastard!”

“Silence!” Snape yelled, leaning down inches from her, his face a rigid mask. “You are here only at Dumbledore’s insistence and my sufferance,” he whispered threateningly. “One more word and it will be my distinct pleasure to have you thrown out of my class.”

Alex closed her mouth with an inaudible snap. Her hands curled into tight fists hard enough that her short nails drew blood from crescent-like cuts. She simultaneously fought the heartfelt desire to punch him and the absurd urge to burst into tears.

Trembling with the effort to master her emotions, Alex sat down slowly. She watched a grim smirk twist his lips in satisfaction.

“One month of detention, Talon, and thirty points from Gryffindor for your utter disregard.”

Alex didn’t trust herself to answer. She was choking on a torrent of hateful words. Instead, she nodded jerkily. Under his steely gaze, she threw her belongings in her bag and left the class.

Outside in the corridor she found Hermione waiting with Ron and Harry.

“How could you?” Granger exclaimed.

“How could I what?” Alex asked, her voice ragged with emotion, still upset with the Vulture.

“How could you lose us sixty points? Is it such a hardship to show some respect to a professor, or don’t they teach that in America?” Granger asked pointedly.

“Hard? Respecting that man isn’t hard. It’s impossible!” Alex looked at the Prefect contemptuously, taking in the know-it-all attitude. For an instant, Alex recalled the destruction of AMA and her mother’s death.

“But-”

“You wouldn’t know what hardship was if it came up and bit you on the ass, Granger!” Alex snarled and stalked away down the corridor past Potter and Weasley.

Alex hated Hogwarts. She detested the stupid rules, the stupid House points, and the stupid know-it-all students. Most of all, Alex despised the arrogant Professor Snape and his damned Potions class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Native American beliefs regarding change can be found at the Wakan circle at MSN groups.
> 
> The notice in the Gryffindor common room was from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by JKRowling, chapter twelve, page 222, U.S. hardback edition.
> 
> “Hungry Like the Wolf” Duran Duran, Rio  
> “Authority Song”, John Cougar Mellencamp, Uh-Huh!  
> “Pressure”, Billy Joel, The Nylon Curtain  
> “Gimme Shelter”, Rolling Stones, Let It Bleed  
> “Witch Hunt”, Rush, Moving Pictures  
> “Highway to Hell”, AC/DC, Highway to Hell
> 
> Chapter title refers to “Don’t Let Me Get Me”, P!nk, M!ssundaztood
> 
> Thanks again to narcissablack of HPFF for her unparalleled beta work, stuffing her mouth with food and seeing just how Ron would talk, and finally for putting up with my obsession with the Potion master. #bestbetaever
> 
> Recognition to past betas: mostlikelytolie, Wand_Waver2006, no_day_but_today and my old dearest friend, myownmuggle.


	8. Welcome to the Jungle

Everything had gone downhill after that first Potions class. Alex avoided everyone, especially her fellow Gryffindors. It wasn’t hard once word about how many points she had lost their House had gotten around. Even Jeannie and Tess had let Alex leave for detention in silence.  
  
It came as no surprise that Snape’s office was also in the dungeons. The office was as gloomy and unwelcoming as its owner. Encircling the room were shelves lined with numerous jars of different shapes and sizes. The liquid within them was cloudy and backlit, lending a dreamlike quality to the odd ends and bits visible within.  
  
Alex tore her eyes away from the jars and focused on the room’s sole occupant. A cold satisfaction seemed to radiate from Snape as he curtly explained his desire to have the contents placed into new jars. After a swift mental count, Alex concluded this was not a task to be completed in one evening. There were easily over a hundred jars.  
  
“And Talon, no magic or gloves. Leave your wand with me.”  
  
Alex started with the lowest shelf and took the jars by twos and threes into a small, adjoining lab. For the next two hours, she poured cloudy liquid down a small, chipped sink, and transferred the contents into a fresh jar to which she added new preservation fluid. It was tedious work made far worse by the foul stench.  
  
By the time Snape had determined she had done enough for the evening, it was just past eleven. Her dress pants had been ruined from accidental splashes of preservation fluid. She’d had to remove her wolf-bone bracelet out of fear the fluid would damage the leather lacings that held it together. As it was, open blisters left her hands raw and her eyes were bloodshot from the fumes. Alex gritted her teeth and refused to let the pain show, especially in front of Snape. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure.  
  
The tears finally came when she was huddled in the shower. They mingled with the water streaming down her face. At least here, no one saw her helplessness. No one knew how alone Alex felt as she huddled in the corner of the showers, holding her knees against her chest.  
  
She hated being at Hogwarts. All Alex wanted was for things to go back to the way they had been. She ached for the familiar halls of AMA and the kind staff who had actually cared about their students. Not once had an instructor at AMA ever tried to assault the privacy of her mind.  
  
When she returned to her dorm, the other girls had already gone to sleep; the hangings of their beds were closed. Alex slipped into her own bed with her potions bag and did the same. Once in place, the hangings lent a cocoon-like feeling of safety. She pulled out an ointment and applied it to her hands. The pleasant scent of aloe, yellow-spine thistle, and honey reminded of her of home.  
  
The physical pain of her hands merged with the internal turmoil of her heart and turned into a glowing coal of anger. She let the memory of Snape’s thwarted attempt to touch her mind stoke that coal, feeding it until it burned under her breastbone. Had her stepfather not taught her to shield herself, Alex’s emotions and memories would have been laid bare for the Vulture’s viewing pleasure.  
  
 _Well, he’s not going to get away with it. Time to turn the tables and take the teacher to school._  
  
On silent feet, she crept down into the deserted common room. What she planned to do was better accomplished there; she had no desire to become a victim of her own making. In the corner near the fireplace, Alex laid out several pouches from her potions bag and slipped on protective gloves over her healing hands. The Bubblehead Charm was probably unnecessary but she applied it before crushing the leaves and pulverizing desiccated roots. Alex added obscure ingredients found only in the States, grinding the mixture together with mortar and pestle. It wasn’t exactly a potion, but it was undoubtedly backwoods. Even with her gloves on, Alex was painstakingly meticulous as she transferred the fine white powder into a glass phial. A moment of carelessness and the open pores of her skin would absorb it.  
  
She set the phial aside, removed the Bubblehead charm and cleaned the area of any traces. Then Alex set about to craft a protective lotion for her hands that would form a second skin. Snape had only banned her from using magic and gloves; nothing had been said regarding alternative methods for protection.  
  
It was approaching two in the morning when she finally returned to her dorm room. _A couple of hours of lost sleep? Well worth it,_ a cynical part of Alex observed as she fell asleep.  
  
The next morning was a blur. Ancient Runes combined with only a handful of hours of sleep made it hard to focus. Defence was only marginally better. Tonks tried to make the reading entertaining, but the dry textbook, _Defensive Magical Theory_ , hardly did the subject justice.  
  
 _The first chance I get to lay my hands on some decent coffee beans,_ Alex promised herself as she sat alone during lunch, _I’m going to brew myself a pot of black coffee even if I have to use my cauldron to do it._  
  
The only thing that kept her going throughout the day was the phial of powder she kept fingering in her pocket. The Vulture was going to pay.  
  
That evening’s detention began much the same way as the previous one. If Snape noticed her now completely healed hands, he said nothing about it. He smugly observed as Alex patiently set about the task of emptying the old jars and placing the contents into new ones.  
  
When the Potions Master stepped out briefly to attend to other matters, Alex set her plan into motion. A quick Disillusionment Charm made the white powder all but invisible. From there she scattered it over his desk, books and chair, being as careful as she could to not get any on her skin. The powder would only be effective for a few hours before it lost its potency, so Alex was relatively confident that she didn’t have to worry about anyone other than her target being affected.  
  
She estimated that by the next morning’s early light, a rash would start spreading across the Vulture’s backside. Within a day boils would appear. They would grow in size and start oozing pus not long after that. The best part – the part that made her grin - was that Snape would soon discover the standard cures were useless. With the exception of time, only a specific backwoods antidote would cure this backwoods affliction.  
  
 _Lesson one: Payback’s a bitch, and so am I ... if you cross me._  
  


~ ~ * ~ ~

By the end of the week, two things had changed. An owl shipment with her robes had arrived, and Alex had found herself looking forward to meals, Potions class, and detention. Any opportunity to be in the same vicinity with Snape brought her immense satisfaction. He could hardly sit straight and was more foul-tempered than ever. Even the Slytherins had begun to dread his classes.

With the increase in Snape’s cantankerous behavior, points started to fly from the Houses with startling frequency. The Gryffindors quickly forgot how many points Alex had lost them; there was a genuine concern as to whether it was possible to have negative House points.

Potter still hadn’t spoken to her about Sirius. Apparently, her comments to Granger about hardship hadn’t sat well with him. The suspicious looks she was treated with almost made her think otherwise, but Alex quickly dismissed thoughts of the young trio. She was more concerned with dusting Snape’s desk that evening during detention. The effect of the initial dose would start tapering off and the sores would begin to heal if she didn’t act soon. Alex had no intention of letting the Vulture off the hook so quickly.

As she approached the Great Hall, intent on grabbing a quick lunch before her afternoon classes, Alex flicked on her radio walkman and slipped on her headset. Her morning had been too busy to listen to music. Most the songs that she had been able to tune into the last couple of days had been angst-filled. Today was no exception with “Welcome to the Jungle”.

 _And what would a jungle be without its share of snakes?_ Alex mused as a pale blond Slytherin moved to intercept her path. The rude boy was in her Potions class and had made no effort to hide his pleasure at Snape’s initial treatment of her.

Dropping her satchel of books at the end of the Gryffindor table closest to the doors, Alex waited to see what would happen. Further down the table, she could hear the Weasley twins speaking to Jeannie and Granger.

“So, is it true? Are you a Halfblood like your roommate?” The boy’s icy, pale grey eyes flickered over her haughtily. “Or are you a Mudblood?”

“Mudblood?” It was an unfamiliar term. There was a gasp of indignation near Fred and George; by the sound of it, Granger was responsible.

“They really didn’t teach you anything in that upstart school, did they?” he asked maliciously. “A Mudblood is someone with filthy Muggle blood, and a Halfblood isn’t much better.”

Alex snorted derisively. “In America, we got past that level of stupidity a long time ago. Pure-breed, half-breed, whatever…it’s outdated thinking, if you ask me.” She cocked her head to the side. “In fact, the only people who resort to those terms are usually insecure, stuck-up, ass-wipes … kind of like you, now that I think of it.”

He turned a violent shade of red. “Why you –” he sputtered. “Didn’t that Muggle-loving Ravenclaw mother of yours tell you about the Malfoy family?”

Alex narrowed her eyes. While a part of her noted the fabricated story about her mother had obviously made its rounds, she was more concerned with the name her classmate had just said. “Malfoy, is it?” she spat out the name. “As in Lucius Malfoy? Well, well, guess that makes you Draco.”

_As in my cousin, Draco. Almost forgot about you._

Draco sneered. “That’s right. My father’s returned to his rightful place on the Board of Governors.”

“Now that you mention it, yeah, Mom did mention you guys. Let me see, what exactly did she say?” Alex struck a thoughtful pose. “Oh yes, I believe it was ‘bloody git’. Or was it ‘fucking git’?”

As the color drained from Draco’s face, Alex casually looked over at the Fred and George, who were openly snickering. She used the movement to slide her wand out discretely and held it behind her back. It was obvious that Alex was scoring points with her fellow Gryffindors.

“Hey Weasleys,” she called out to the twins, “exactly what does ‘bloody’ mean? Your brother there seems to say it every other word.”

“Bloody hell, I do not!” Ron protested, leaning forward from the far side of the twins.

“He’s right,” George started.

“Only every third or fourth word,” finished Fred.

Alex turned her head back in time to see Draco pull out his wand and begin to motion with it.

_“Expelliarmus!”_

The whispered spell took Draco by surprise. His wand flew out of this hand. Alex whispered another spell and the wand soared into her open left hand. She slipped her wand back into her pocket with a practiced motion.

Alex held Draco’s wand up and examined it critically for a moment. “Hawthorn wood, right?” She leaned closer to her cousin. “Nice, but a bit small, don’t you think? I’d have expected something a little _bigger_ for a Malfoy.” The suggestive tone and implication were not lost on Draco or the Gryffindors within earshot.

“You – you filthy –” he hissed. Draco started to say more but abruptly stopped. His eyes were focused on something or someone behind Alex.

“Miss Talon, would you care to explain yourself?” The low, sinister voice was dripping with disapproval. Alex turned to find herself once again faced with the Potions Master. She usually hated the way he towered over her petite frame, but the slightly pained expression on his face was gratifying.

“Oh, Professor Snape. Malfoy here was showing me his wand.” Alex schooled her face into a bored yet innocent expression and carelessly handed the wand back to Draco without looking away from the Potions master.

“Indeed?” Snape asked quietly. Alex lifted her gaze to meet his obsidian gaze. A touch as elusive as the wind skimmed her mind.

 _Damnitall,_ Alex snarled internally even as she felt a flash of curiosity. Was all could see of her mind a valley bordered by an impenetrable forest or was it just blank? Either way, had he seen the image she had been thinking, of her force-feeding him a draught of poison, Alex would have doubtlessly earned her more detention.

_Of course, I still might earn it with what I’m about to say._

“You know, Professor Snape,” she said sweetly, still holding his gaze. “The Forbidden Forest isn’t the only dangerous patch of woods around here.”

The ever so slight tightening of his eyes was the only outward response to her challenge. Had she not been watching intently, Alex would have been missed the telltale reaction.

_Bingo! There’s my answer; it’s the forest. Course, now he knows that I know when he tries that little mind trick of his._

“Talon, you will spend tomorrow afternoon scrubbing bedpans and attending to anything else Madam Pomfrey desires. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” she answered while mentally waving goodbye to her Saturday afternoon.

Snape glowered over his large nose at her, arching one eyebrow. Alex could feel his growing displeasure radiating from him like a cold fire and took perverse pleasure in drawing the moment out.

“Yes, sir,” she finally amended.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek.” Snape turned and limped away, robes flapping. Draco followed in his wake. Alex was again reminded of an ungainly vulture, this time leading off its bald-headed young.

From the corner of her eye, Alex saw Professor Tonks approach. She had changed her hair from canary yellow to an unremarkable brown. It was obvious that Tonks had witnessed the entire scenario. “Wotcher, Alex! Let’s take a walk.”

They left the Great Hall and wandered outside in the rose garden, away from everyone else. The sun had finally broken out of the clouds and shined brightly upon the dark lake that lapped at the edge of the grounds. Alex could hardly believe that a week ago, she had been in America getting ready for the school year.

“Alex, you really can’t go around provoking Professor Snape.” Tonks raised a hand to forestall Alex. “I know Hogwarts probably isn’t anything like your old school, but you can’t just mouth off to a professor.”

“He provoked me! Tonks, he stuck me in fifth-year potions!” Alex disagreed. “If the Vulture wants respect, perhaps he should try giving a little first.”

“ _Professor_ Snape is the Potions Master at Hogwarts.” Tonks seemed to be struggling to sound firm and not grin at the nickname Alex had given Snape. “I know you don’t like him – believe me, very few people do - but Alex, you have to at least respect his experience.”

With an exhalation that sounded suspiciously like a growl, Alex crossed her arms and looked away.

“You know, you’re as stubborn as Sirius,” Tonks teased her lightly, taking a different tact. “You even look like him when you do that, grey eyes all stormy and that growling of yours.”

Alex had to smile at the thought of Sirius. “Stubbornness is one of my better qualities.”

Tonks snorted in disbelief. “Better qualities, ha! Then Professor Snape shares it with you.” Tonks put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Alex, you deliberately disobeyed his directions, insulted him, and if that wasn’t enough, you taunted him in front of the class. You might as well have danced to “Do the Hippogriff” on top of your desk while you were at it, yeah?”

Alex had the grace to be embarrassed when her infractions were listed so plainly. She aimlessly kicked at a rock, sending it further along their path.

"I get how you feel. Snape was my teacher not so long ago. He favors his own and can be, well, a bit unfair at times. But you have to just let that roll off, like rain off a kappa’s back. In any case, be glad you only have Snape as an instructor for two years. I had him for all seven!”

Tonks crossed her eyes and screwed up her face. In an instant, her hair turned greasy black and her nose became large and hooked. Alex giggled and tweaked the familiar beak.

“Just don’t try that on Snape!” her cousin warned Alex with a chuckle. “Not unless you want to be permanently in detention down in those dungeons.”

“That would totally stink,” Alex responded. A month of detention was long enough.

“Speaking of things that might stink, I want your honest opinion on something, Alex. What do you think of my class?”

Alex bit her lower lip and looked away briefly as they continued walking. She didn’t know quite what to say. Every other class at Hogwarts that she was taking was harder than what she had studied at AMA. The sole exception was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Tonks’ approach wasn’t nearly as good the way Mr. Harmon had taught it. Reading was the only thing she had tasked them with; not once had they been asked to practice a spell. The main problem was that Alex had heard the other students grumbling about it as well. The class was universally thought to be dull and disappointing.

Tonks sighed and with a pained expression, reverted her features. Her normally perky face was downcast and her hair was a drab brown.

“I knew it,” her cousin said, kicking the rock off the path while nearly losing her balance. “When the Ministry tapped me to teach the course, they provided me a curriculum they felt would best fit the students’ needs. It was nothing like what I had been taught, but I thought I should go along with it. Kind of expected, yeah?”

“I’m sure they meant well, but…” Alex’s voice trailed off uncertainly.

“It stinks,” Tonks concluded. “What about back at AMA? Tell me, how did your instructor handle the subject?”

Alex could readily picture Mr. Harmon in her mind. Bald with a tendency to waddle when he walked, her former instructor had had a thick Canadian accent. He was generally thought of as one of the best teachers, even if his naming conventions left everyone groaning.

“To start, everything was hands-on. The students didn’t just study from a book; they performed the spells on each other and all. And the upperclassmen – sixth and seventh years – they all looked forward to the Disguise Dance and the Annual All School Duelling Match.”

The mention of the two most anticipated events piqued Tonks’ interest. “A Disguise Dance and Duelling Match?”

Alex went on to explain the dance was an elaborate game of cloak and dagger. The students would use spells, charms, and potions to try their best to disguise themselves from their instructors. Students altered their appearances, strove to modify their voices and accents, and even changed their mannerisms. A few attempted to pass off as complete Mundanes. It took skills in Charms, Transfiguration, and Defence to outwit the instructors. The lucky few students who succeeded were awarded a weekend trip to New York City.

The All School Duelling Match saw students sparring with their year-group peers, while seniors had the opportunity to duel with the instructors. Anyone who could manage three hits on a teacher would be exempt from finals.

With an impish grin, Tonks mulled over the idea. “I think we could do something like that! Aurors have to take a course on Concealment and Disguise. And duelling, well, that definitely fits a Defence class. I think there was even a duelling club here a few years ago. I could teach some lessons leading right up to those events, maybe even get that newsletter Lovegood started to cover it.” With a gleam in her eye, Tonks gave her a swift hug. “Thanks, Alex!”

Alex accepted Tonks’ gratitude. “Just promise me you’ll keep it classy. No using Mr. Harmon’s tacky themes. Last year it was Smoke and Mirrors at the Disco, and Wand Wars.”

The former had seen the Student Commons decked out with disco balls, and students had worn bell bottoms, jazzy prints and lots of suede. Wand Wars hadn’t been any better in Alex’s opinion. To its credit, she heard at least it hadn’t featured a soundtrack of ABBA and Saturday Night Fever. Instead, the upperclassmen duelled in brown robes, pretending their wands were swords of shimmering light. One side used the ‘Schwartz’ and went by names like ‘Dark Helmet’ and ‘Lone Starr’ while the other side had the Farce and preferred pseudonyms such as Augie Ben Doggie and Ham Salad.

For all that it had been utterly cheesy, Alex wished she had been old enough to attend either of those previous events. She had missed out by a year.

 _But at least things are going to start looking up._ The thought alone put a bounce to her step as she left Tonks outside and headed to her afternoon classes.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and song referenced is “Welcome to the Jungle”, Guns N Roses, Appetite for Destruction.
> 
> The Schwartz, Dark Helmet and Lone Starr are from Spaceballs, produced by Brooksfilms in conjunction with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM).
> 
> The Farce, Augie Ben Doggie and Ham Salad are from Hardware Wars, produced by Ernie Fosselius and Michael Wiese and distributed by Pyramid Films.


	9. Do It Up Right

The door to Snape’s office clicked opened in the quietness of the deserted hall, just as the clock on his desk struck midnight. Alex stepped out with a satisfied smirk on her face. When she had reported in for detention, Snape had surprised Alex by demanding she hold her hands out for inspection; it seemed he was looking for traces of magic. Despite the obvious lack of blisters one would expect from handling the preservation fluid without gloves, the Vulture found nothing. To top it off, she had succeeded in dosing his desk a second time with the boils-inducing powder.  
  
 _Those boils should be getting downright painful by now_ , she gleefully mused as she slipped her wolf-bone bracelet back on. It had become a habit to remove it before reporting for detention. The thought of the preservation fluid permanently damaging the leather lacings that bound it together made her anxious. She had no way to repair it and once broken, she’d lose forever the ability to transform into a wolf.  
  
“There she goes a-smiling,” a voice sang out from over her left shoulder, startling Alex as she headed out of the dungeons. She turned to find Fred Weasley had appeared as if out of thin air. “And after leaving Snape’s office, no less.”  
  
“Makes a person wonder what she’s up to,” his twin said from her other side.  
  
 _Where in the heck did those two appear from?_ Alex wiped the smile off her face and lengthened her stride as she headed up the stairs. There were only three things she wanted at that moment: a decent cup of coffee, her bed, and to keep secret that she was literally a pain in Snape’s posterior.  
  
 _And the only way to keep a secret is to tell no one, especially with the speed that gossip flies around here._  
  
“I’m up to nothing. Just glad to be done with tonight’s detention and that it’s the weekend. Off to bed now.”  
  
Playing innocent and quickening her steps did nothing to dissuade Fred or George. They merely followed her. “Detention and grinning,” one of them observed.  
  
“Definitely suspicious.”  
  
Alex stopped at the landing for the second floor. “Look guys, it’s past midnight which means past curfew. Don’t you have anything else to do, like not getting caught wandering the halls?”  
  
George snorted. “Sneaking around is not a problem. It’s our speciality.”  
  
Her fingers brushed near the pocket where her wand was hidden. She was half-tempted to try to Disillusion herself and slip away. “Then how’s about you _sneak off_ and find some product testers before Granger catches you again?”  
  
Fred reassured her, “Oh, we have that problem well in hand, don’t we, George?”  
  
“Indeed, we do. Right now, we’ve got more interesting things to pursue.”  
  
At that moment, each grabbed an elbow and guided Alex down the hallway past the second-floor classrooms. They turned into an alcove cloaked in shadows. Alex drew a breath to protest when George placed a finger on her lips and hushed her. Fred tapped the wall with his wand and a panel of stones moved silently, revealing an opening.  
  
“This way,” Fred waved her in.  
  
Any thought of using her wand to give them the slip faded as Alex’s interest piqued. _A secret passageway?_ She had discovered all the hidden ways back at AMA but had yet to find one at Hogwarts. Then again, she hadn’t really tried. Homework and detention had kept her busy.  
  
The passageway led up a short flight of steps before opening up to a small chamber. Dusty chairs sat in a circle around a scratched and worn table. George and Fred promptly plopped themselves down on opposite chairs and a thick cloud of dust rose. Alex coughed and waved her hand.  
  
“Sorry about that,” George wheezed.  
  
“It’s been a while since we were last in here.”  
  
Alex gingerly sat down on the least dusty-looking chair. “So, what’s this all about? Is there some rule about smiling that Granger forgot to pound in my head? I thought she covered everything.”  
  
They grinned at her. “No rules about smiling -”  
  
“- but plenty about sneaking out to the Forest -” George counted off.  
  
“- pulling pranks -” Fred continued.  
  
“- and losing House points.” Three fingers wagged in front of her face.  
  
Talking to them was like watching a demented tennis rally on fast forward. She was getting dizzy from moving her head from left to right.  
  
 _What was that about pulling pranks? Have they figured out what I’m doing to Snape?_  
  
Alex held out both hands. “Whoa, would you two Wonder Twins stop doing that?” She rubbed her forehead. It was late and she was tired. “Like I told Granger, no I haven’t been to the Forest. Ok, so I did lose a ton of your precious House points. But about pulling pranks, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The lie slipped effortlessly off her lips. “So if that’s it,” she said, getting up and brushing off her uniform, “I’d really like to go to bed.”  
  
She made it to the door when Fred called out, “We heard you asked Harry a few days ago about someone in London.”  
  
“Someone with a big black dog,” his twin elaborated.  
  
Her steps halted. Alex glanced over her shoulder and noted the twins’ typical expressions were no longer so carefree. She thought she hadn’t been overheard when she talked to Potter.  
  
 _Not unless he told these two. Damn._  
  
While Sirius had advised her to speak with his godson, he hadn’t mentioned anyone else. Admonishments to keep secret any knowledge of Sirius forced her next words.  
  
“Sorry, boys. My bad,” she explained with a casual shrug. “Just an innocent mix-up on my part. See you in the morning.”  
  
They didn’t stop her from leaving nor did the twins follow Alex as she made her way to the common room. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but it did put in mind her promise to get with the Potter kid the following day.  
  
When she silently snuck into the common room, Alex discovered she might not have to wait that long. Harry and the two friends he was seemingly attached at the hip with were gathered around the large fireplace.  
  
 _Oh geez. Granger. Just what I need._ Something about the younger Gryffindor got beneath Alex’s skin. She groused internally as she debated whether it would be easier to just talk to Harry alone in the morning. Then just as she was about to slip up the stairs to the girl dorms, Alex heard a familiar voice that made her spin around.  
  
“You’re less like your father than I thought. The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.”*  
  
She blurted out his name without thinking. “Sirius?”  
  
The trio turned with a gasp. She was too busy gawking at the face in the fireplace to pay them any mind.  
  
“Alex!” called out Sirius.  
  
Before she could draw a breath to respond to her cousin, a voice directly behind Alex startled her for the second time in less than an hour.  
  
“Told you she was lying.” Tossed casually over an arm, Fred had a cloak of some sort; he held a hand out towards his twin. Even as George dug in his pocket and slapped a coin into his brother’s waiting palm, everyone began to speak at once.  
  
“Merlin’s flaming balls! Where the hell did you two pop up from?” Alex swiveled from the twins back to the fireplace. “And Sirius, what are you doing in the fireplace?”  
  
Ron elbowed Harry and then pointed at his older brothers. “Oi, Harry, there’s your cloak.”  
  
“You know Sirius?” Harry asked Alex incredulously, ignoring Ron’s jabbing elbow and Hermione’s shushing.  
  
George pointed at Alex. “This one’s the sneaky sort, Harry.”  
  
“Sirius, I thought Remus said the authorities were monitoring the fireplaces.” Alex pushed forward towards the fireplace as she addressed Sirius.  
  
Harry’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “You know Remus?”  
  
“What does Harry mean by that, Alex? Haven’t you two spoken yet?”  
  
Hermione stood up on a chair amidst the volley of questions and yelled, “Enough!”  
  
Everyone stopped talking and gaped at Hermione.  
  
“Unless we want to wake everyone in Gryffindor and invite them down here to chat, we need to be quiet,” the bushy-haired Prefect admonished them in a low voice. For a moment, the only thing that could be heard was the crackling of the fireplace. Then with a satisfied nod, Hermione hopped off the chair.  
  
“This is what happens when you give her a Prefect badge,” Fred muttered, but any further comment was interrupted by Ginny Weasley coming down stairs.  
  
“Oh just can it, Fred. Hermione’s right and you all know it. You might as well announce it in the _Hogwarts Herald,_ ” Ginny said, pointing to a copy of the newsletter that lay on a side table; it was written and distributed by a fourth-year classmate of hers.  
  
Alex grudgingly nodded as she sat near the hearth. At the rate they were going, it was surprising no one else besides the youngest Weasley had wandered downstairs. The others gathered in a semi-circle facing Alex and the fireplace.  
  
“So little cousin, do I understand right that you haven’t spoken to my godson?” Sirius asked. “You’ve been there a week and obviously ended up in the same House.”  
  
She faced Sirius and shrugged. “I’ve been busy.” The evasion sounded lame even to Alex. This was not how she had envisioned talking to Harry would play out.  
  
“She’s had detention all week,” Hermione provided even as the others looked at Alex appraisingly, “after insulting Professor Snape.”  
  
 _Who does she think she is talking for me?_ Alex shot a glare at the younger girl. Merlin only knew what Sirius would say about her getting into trouble already. Tonks already had given Alex an earful.  
  
“You insulted Snape?”  
  
This time as Hermione opened her mouth to answer, Alex smacked the hearth with an open palm. “Hey Granger,” she called out sharply, “I’m right here. I think I can answer his question by myself, thanks.”  
  
Hermione snapped her mouth closed and leaned back, clearly offended. Alex didn’t care. She leveled a warning look at the Prefect before turning to answer Sirius.  
  
 _Better just get this over all at once, like ripping off a bandage._  
  
“I called Snape a bastard, lost them sixty precious House points,” Alex said, twisting her mouth and nodding towards the others, “and it got me a month of detention, okay?”  
  
“You called Snape what? To his face?” When Alex nodded stiffly, Sirius threw back his head and gave a bark-like laugh. “Atta girl, Alex! I wish I could have seen old Snivellus’ face!”  
  
The hearty approval was nothing short of astonishing to Alex. Hermione shook her head in appalled disappointment.  
  
“Harry, this is what I’m talking about. Taking risks.”  
  
Alex didn’t know what Sirius was referring to. Whatever it was had Harry pressing his lips into a thin line.  
  
Sirius started to speak again and then abruptly looked away. “Is that Kreacher?” His voice dropped lower and he spoke quickly. “Listen here. Alex, Harry, you two need to talk. Bring each other up to date. I have to go.”  
  
“Sirius, wait!” Alex leaned closer to the fireplace. “Do you know if they found her, um-” she broke off and took a deep breath, “you know, the remains?”  
  
With a sigh, Sirius shook his head. “Ah, little cousin. I’m sorry, nothing yet. We have someone on the inside looking into the mess at your school. She’ll let us know. Now, I really do have to go.” With a pop, Sirius disappeared from the common room fireplace.  
  
It bothered her that after close to a week, no one had found her mother’s body. How hard could it be? They had found the other three lost to the destruction.  
  
 _But at least they’re looking into it._  
  
“So you’re Sirius’ little cousin?” Harry asked, breaking into Alex’s introspection.  
  
She found herself facing six curious Housemates. “Technically, he’s my Mom’s cousin.” Sparing a glance for the staircases going up to the dorms, Alex asked. “Is it really safe for us to discuss everything here?” No matter what Sirius had just said about taking risks, Alex wasn’t so sure it had been wise of him to use the fireplace. Anyone really could have wandered downstairs and then what?  
  
“Leave it to us.” Fred and George disappeared up the stairs to the boys’ dorms.  
  
Alex took advantage of that time to quietly slip into her own room and grabbed her yearbook. By the sound of their breathing, she figured her dorm-mates deeply asleep. Coming back down to the common room, she passed an odd string-like object draped down the stairs that led to George; his twin held a similar object leading up the boys’ stairs.  
  
“Extendable ears. We’ll hear anyone coming down,” Fred explained. “We’ve got your back covered -”  
  
George continued, “- and your front.”  
  
Their waggling eyebrows caused her grin. Then she took a seat at the hearth with the fireplace at her back and faced everyone. Her fingers played with the yearbook in her lap; she found touching it gave her a small measure of comfort.  
  
“So how do we begin this?” she asked, mostly to herself. “When Dumbledore announced me earlier in the week, he said my name was Alexis Hawks Talon. Only that wasn’t exactly accurate...”  
  
Alex went on to explain how the name she went by was not, in fact, her birth name. The class schedule she had tucked into her yearbook less than a week ago was the only proof she could offer; the rest of the documents were still in Dumbledore’s possession. Then Alex detailed for them what had truly happened at AMA. Her words sounded curiously flat when she described how the Death Eaters had attacked her mother, first briefly torturing and finally killing her. She told them of her frantic flight to New York, arriving in a foreign country and unexpectedly discovering she had a family.  
  
“So Granger, when you talked to me after that first Potions class…” Alex trailed off and shook her head. “I had just seen my mother killed and my school destroyed, and there you were asking about hardships. I’m sorry, I just snapped.”  
  
“It’s understandable,” Hermione assured her, a tad stiffly. Alex decided that Granger wasn’t half bad when she wasn’t acting like a know-it-all.  
  
Then Alex turned to Harry. “Now you know my story. Your turn. All I know is what the papers have reported.”  
  
By the time Harry had finished his tale, it was past two in the morning. There was no doubt in Alex’s mind that Potter had given her an abbreviated version. Not that it bothered Alex; the account she had given had likewise been abridged. There was no need to reveal that she wasn’t truly an Animagus nor the unusual interaction with the werewolf within Lupin.  
  
Alex headed back to her room feeling better than she had since arriving at Hogwarts. True, they might not be the best of pals, but it was good to know that someone there knew what it was like to face down Death Eaters or to see someone die at their hands. In that respect, she wasn’t completely alone.  
  
  


~ ~ * ~ ~

 

Several hours later, the distant howl of a wolf abruptly tugged Alex awake. At first, she dismissed it as a stray remnant of a dream coughed up by the tides of fatigue. Absently she rubbed her wolf-bone bracelet, pulling the covers over her head. She was nearly back to sleep when another howl called out.

Carefully, Alex slipped out of bed and past her still snoring roommates. She pushed opened the stained glass window of their dorm. A cool breeze tickled a lock of hair from the confines of her ponytail. Everything was silent and still beneath the starry skies.

The third time the howls cried out to the waning moon, Alex realized they were coming from the Forbidden Forest.

_‘A creature resembling a wolf was seen last night on the edges of the Forbidden Forest.’ Wasn’t that what Granger had said?_

The clock on her nightstand read five in the morning. She shrugged off the warnings she’d heard about the Forest and pulled on an old, dark-grey sweat suit. Oddly refreshed despite the handful of hours she’d manage, Alex was determined to investigate the Forest.

Creeping out of the common room proved to be an easy task. The Disillusionment Charm was almost unnecessary, but practicing it certainly didn’t hurt in her opinion. Alex saw no one on the way to down to the Entrance Hall. As she approached the double doors leading outside, there was a distinct click. Alex pressed herself close to one of the suits of armor and watched the right door swing open.

Tonks stepped in, looking mysteriously dejected. Her hair was once more a drab brown. With a heavy sigh, her cousin walked up the marble staircase with heavy steps. Alex counted to five before quickly moving to the door and sneaking outside.

The air was delightfully cool and a bank of mist had come ashore from the lake. The pre-dawn stillness beckoned. Alex shed her concealment spell and transformed into a wolf. The scents all around her were magnified ten-fold. She could smell the murky lake water, Tonks’ trail overlaying older traces of passing students, the cold flagstone, and the dying grass. In the distance was the tantalizing scent of the Forest, of decay and life and hidden secrets.

Alex stretched out her new form and ran. The ground flew below her strong paws as her muscles coiled and flexed. In moments, she was at the edge of the Forest. An eddy of wind teased her nose. It brought to her Tonks’ scent again. Alex stuck her nose to the ground and circled until she found footprints.

_What was Tonks doing out here before dawn?_

Alex followed the trail into the forest. Tonks had stuck to a well-trod path that meandered between large trees and brush. Half a mile in was a clearing. A large log lay on its side, all that remained of a once-mighty tree. Tonks had sat there for a while. Alex scouted about the clearing, but couldn’t find any other recent scents. Perhaps her cousin had come out here to think and later returned to the castle.

Alex huffed and decided to go around the perimeter of the clearing. She picked up the traces of small animals to the north, large, musty spider webs to the west and a scattering of nightshade to the south. Alex made a note of the deadly plant. It would be useful to know where to find it again if she ever needed the ingredient.

A howl echoed in the slowly awakening air, reminding Alex that it was the call of the wolves that had originally enticed her out of bed. She shook her furry head to clear Tonks’ scent from her nostrils. It was easy to get distracted with the new world of enhanced senses and the instincts inherent to her wolf-form. Deserting the clearing altogether, Alex found a half-hidden trail that at first lead deeper into the forest before turning back to Hogwarts.

Standing at the edge of the forest again, Alex found a partial footprint. A sniff told that her it wasn’t Tonks. Strangely enough, the scent was also somehow familiar. Alex breathed it in deeply, but could not pin down why it was almost recognizable. It was definitely masculine, spicy with an undertone of musk.

Nose to the ground, she followed the traces, all the while trying to identify the scent. The trail led her in a long circuit around Hogwarts, skirted the edges of the lake and then back to a different entry point into the Forest. Never once did it directly approach the school.

Sitting back on her haunches, Alex mentally walked the trail she had followed again.

 _Was someone watching over Hogwarts or were they patiently stalking an unwary prey?_ The notion of prey made her nervous. She whined unconsciously. _Why does that scent seem familiar? Where have I come across it before? Was it at AMA?_

She had caught a faint whiff of some of the Death Eaters’ scents during the attack, but it had been almost smothered by the smoke. Abruptly, Alex decided it might be better to investigate the trail in the safety of true daylight when the sun was at its height. She made a beeline for the main doors and shifted back into her human form.

 

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

Alex kept a low profile until curfew officially ended and students were allowed to leave their common rooms. Then she gathered her messenger bag and made good use of her time in the relatively quiet Great Hall catching up on Transfiguration homework. Yawning classmates staggered in clusters of twos and threes, clearly having enjoyed a late kip on a Saturday morning. She had just reached the conclusion that three cups of strong black tea might be equivalent to a good cup of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee when Fred and George plopped down wearily next to her. They were followed shortly thereafter by the others Alex had spoken with the previous evening.

Her cheery greeting was met with groans by the twins, a look of approval by Hermione once the Prefect had spotted Alex’s homework and Ron’s open stare of disbelief.

“You’re doing Transfiguration homework? This early? On a Saturday?” he asked as he plopped down across the table from Alex.

“Actually, I’m done with Transfiguration.” Alex was proud of herself. She closed the textbook and slipped it into her messenger bag. Assignments in Charms, Defense, Potions, and Runes were still left, but she felt it would be manageable even with her afternoon taken by detention.

“You know, you’re completely mental.”

“Ron, how rude!” Hermione scolded as she took a seat across from the twins and next to Harry. “I think you could learn a thing or two from Talon about time management.”

_Like how I managed to sneak out of the castle, run around and still get homework done this early._

The thought had a smile tugging at Alex’s lips as Hermione continued to admonish Ron, and now Harry, about not keeping up with their assignments. Alex exchanged a headshake with the twins.

“Typical, I take it?”

“You have no idea,” George answered.

“Oi Talon! What’s that book you had on your lap last night? We didn’t get a chance to ask before everyone went off to bed.”

Fred’s question took her by surprise. She had brought it out mostly for herself and the schedule neatly folded inside it. “You mean my yearbook?” Twin blank looks met her query. “Let me guess. Hogwarts doesn’t have anything like it.”

Hermione broke off her nagging as Alex pulled her yearbook from her bag. Making sure her old schedule remained tucked securely towards the back, Alex pushed the book towards Fred and George. On the cover was an aerial shot of her old school. Pendants flew from the Student Commons and the windows reflected the colors of the sunset. Just looking at it made a pang of homesickness roll through Alex.

“That’s the American Magical Academy. Or at least that’s how it used to look.”

“It looked like a Muggle university,” Hermione remarked, leaning closer and flipping it open. “I didn’t realize it had been on an island.”

Ron asked, “No one wore uniforms?”

“Look at the classrooms,” Harry pointed out. “Everything looks modern.”

Alex laughed. “Think that’s impressive? Give me that back for a second.” She beckoned for her yearbook and Harry handed it over. “You should see,” Alex began as she quickly flipped through the pages, “what our Potions classroom was like.”

Having found it, Alex turned her yearbook around and set it on the table so everyone could see the brightly lit room, the smiling students, and the magnificent view of the ocean from the windows.

“That was your Potions class?” George asked in disbelief.

“That was my Potions class,” Alex echoed in pride and longing. “Not too shabby, huh?”

Then a ruggedly handsome man casually dressed in jeans and a Hawaiian shuffled into the picture from the right side. The students nearest looked only too happy to move over to accommodate him.

“Who is that?” Hermione inquired. “Was that your – no, that couldn’t be … your Professor?”

The person in question ran his tanned hands through sun-bleached hair and gave a wide grin that Alex couldn’t help smiling back at. She could almost hear his tantalizing Australian accent in her mind.

“Yeah, that’s Professor Jordan. Surfer, motorcycle enthusiast, and one of the most popular teachers in school. I don’t think he ever handed out a detention once in the five years I was at AMA, unlike a certain Professor here.”

At once, everyone turned to look at Professor Snape, seated uncomfortably at the table reserved for instructors. His face bore a pinched expression as he looked out over the room. When he abruptly noticed the group of Gryffindors staring at him, they broke off with hoots of laughter. Hermione was the lone exception, but even she was smiling.

“You went from that-” George pointed at Professor Jordan in the yearbook photo.

“-to that?” Fred jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Snape, who had risen from his chair.

By that time, Snape started his way towards them. Alex snapped her yearbook closed and shoved it away. In a hushed voice, she hurriedly asked, “Hey, what was it that, uh, my older cousin called Snape?”

“Snivellus,” one of the twins whispered. The twins exchanged one of their rapid glances before identically mischievous smiles graced their faces.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Fred challenged her. Between two fingers, he flashed a coin that had appeared out of nowhere.

Alex used her movement of standing up to cover her words. “Watch me.”

As the Potions Master slowed his steps as he walked by, suspicion clearly stamped on his features, Alex turned and held her hand in front of her nose.

“Sni- Sni- Snivellus!” she sneezed loudly.

Professor Snape whipped around and glared. “What did you say?” He towered over her.

Alex snatched the napkin offered to her by George and dabbed it under her nose to cover the grin she was desperately trying to suppress. “Sorry Professor?” she asked, eyes almost watering in the face of his anger. “Must be allergies.”

His lips twisted and he appeared to be about to say something, then the Vulture turned on his heel and strode away.

“Like taking sugar mice from a baby,” Alex informed them. Fred slapped the coin into her palm.

Alex left the group as Fred and George began to relate what had just happened to a newly arrived Lee Jordan. She was about to exit the Great Hall when Tess, who had been seated with Jeannie at the end of the table, gave her a friendly nod. Jeannie looked away, leaving Alex to wonder if she shouldn’t try to find a way to make amends with her roommate.

The thought lingered in her mind as Alex finished up her Runes homework, grabbed a quick lunch and then headed to the Hospital Wing. Snape’s detention proved to be unexpectedly pleasant. Alex showed Madam Pomfrey an interest in the field of Healing and a willingness to perform menial tasks without complaint. Inventory was quickly accomplished and Alex busied herself with drawing up a list of those remedies needed. She was a little surprised that according to Madam Pomfrey, Professor Snape typically provided the majority of them.

As she finished up the list, several Gryffindors showed up with minor injuries from Quidditch practice. Jeannie was among them and she sported several large bruises on her face. Alex could not understand the obsession with chasing balls, whether the sport was Muggle or wizard. It all seemed slightly absurd.

Alex approached Jeannie where she was waiting for Madam Pomfrey to finish attending to two other players.

“Hey, Jeannie.”

“Talon,” she responded with a stiff nod.

 _Why are you making this hard?_ Alex bit her tongue from asking the question and instead said, “Look, Madam Pomfrey is probably going to give you some willow bark tea for the pain, but I’ve got a salve that works wonders on bruises.”

Alex offered her the small green jar filled with a minty-smelling paste made with comfrey and several other ingredients. It was originally a Cheyenne recipe that Alex had fused with modern Potions techniques.

Jeannie took the jar and turned it over in her hand.

“They’ll be completely gone in a few minutes,” Alex told her. “The bruises, that is.”

As she got up to leave, Jeannie laid a hand on her arm. “Thanks, Alex.” A hint of her roommate’s smile peeked out. “Hey, have you started work on that Charms paper?”

Alex shook her head.

“How about after dinner, we head over to the library? I think I have a pretty good idea where we can find the answers Professor Flitwick’s looking for.”

It was a good start and Alex readily agreed.

At the end of her detention, Madam Pomfrey had Alex take the list of remedies down to the Potions Master. She found Snape in his office working over a cauldron. After taking a quick glance at the ingredients on his desk, she had to fight the urge to laugh. He appeared to be concocting an unusual antidote for carbuncles.

_Oh, my! Professor, are you starting to learn your lesson?_

He snarled at her to drop Pomfrey’s list on a stack of papers and leave.

 _Guess not. What a pity,_ she said within the safety of her mind, unconsciously echoing the same words he had treated her with earlier that week. She did as he bade and quickly left. As soon as the office door closed behind her, she couldn’t help but smirk.

After dinner, she met with Jeannie. Together they dug through old books, seeking the information required in the double-parchment length essay while repairing their friendship.

“I couldn’t believe you took the mick out of Malfoy so openly yesterday,” Jeannie confided.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know about this mick thing, but his head was pretty firmly stuck up his ass.”

Jeannie slapped a hand over her mouth to smother her giggles. Madam Pince suddenly rounded the aisle, brandishing a feather duster at them.

“So, you really don’t care about blood status?” her roommate inquired a little too casually once the librarian had left. Draco had implied Jeannie had Muggle blood-ties, and her question now cemented it.

Alex shot her roommate an annoyed look. “Jeannie, I grew up in a Mundane household – that’s Muggle to you Brits. Do you really think I care?”

Jeannie breathed a soft sigh of relief. Then she told Alex about her family. Her father was a wizard, but her mother was a Muggle who taught music at the local school. The only problem Jeannie had with her Muggle relatives was their musical expectations of her.

“Everyone on that side of the family can play one if not several instruments. My mom plays five: the piano, harp, guitar, cello, and viola. They simply can’t understand that I have no musical aptitude – I’m horrible at it! So every Christmas, I end up with instruments and lessons. Last year it was a flute; the year before that a piano was delivered to my home. I’ve been sent to voice lessons, guitar lessons, even drum lessons.”

Alex chuckled quietly. “I kinda know what you mean. My mom played the violin. She was amazing, like move you to tears amazing.”

“Did she want you to learn, too?”

A vivid memory of her mother turning up her nose at Alex’s interests in the instrument when she was five flashed through her mind. “No, not really. We weren’t close or anything. I tried to learn on my own, though. I took lessons for years, but I’m not very good.”

Jeannie patted her hand in sympathy. “Well, that’s one thing we have in common.” Then with lightning speed, she changed the topic. “So, what do you think of the Weasley twins?”

“What’s there to think?”

“I saw how you were talking to them all cozy like this morning.”

Alex feigned innocence even as she thought, _Wonder what she’d think about them taking me to that secret chamber on the second floor?_

“Tell me, which one would you fancy snogging?”

Alex’s perplexed look had Jeannie laughing out loud. “Snogging?” Alex asked. “What’s that?”

They spent the rest of the evening with Jeannie translating particular British terms for Alex. By the end of the evening, Alex was beginning to think that perhaps attending Hogwarts wouldn’t be as bad as she had initially thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wonder Twins are, of course, a reference to the amazingly annoying twins Zan and Jayna of The All-New Super Friends Hour, produced by Hanna-Barbera in association with DC Comics.
> 
> Part of Sirius’ dialogue is from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by JKRowling, chapter fourteen, page 305, U.S. hardback edition.
> 
> Chapter title from “Do It Up Right”, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Last of the Dyin’ Breed.
> 
> Written to the sounds of …  
> Fireworks, from the original motion picture soundtrack of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by Nicolas Hooper
> 
> Wolf Girl, from the original motion picture soundtrack of Blood & Chocolate, by Johnny Klimek, Reinhold Heil and Bruce Winter


	10. One Way or Another

“Wotcher, class,” Tonks said as she strode into the room, a bounce in her step. Her hair was a blinding shade of purple, something Alex hadn’t seen before. “I would like everyone to grab their textbook and then sweep them clear off their desks. We won’t be using them.”  
  
The students slumped at their desks in expectation of another dull class, sat up straight and looked at each other.  
  
“I think we’ve done enough reading, yeah? From now on, we’ll be focusing more on practical applications and leave the reading for homework.”  
  
Alex looked over at Jeannie with a grin and slid her book off the desk. It looked like Tonks had taken her suggestions to heart after all.  
  
The past week had seen Alex lose hope for any improvement in Defence class, particularly when all they had done was listened to endless lectures about the readings and taken notes on the readings and written boring papers about the reading.  
  
 _Maybe Tonks had to get approval from Dumbledore and that’s why it’s taken so long?_ Alex was unsure how the administrative side of things worked.  
  
Tonks perched a hip on the side of her desk, and in the process managed to knock over a book and an inkwell. Once she had cleared up the resulting mess, she surveyed the class, half of which were smiling at the streak of black ink smeared on her cheek. Only after Jeannie pointed it out did Tonks resort to using the sleeve of her robes to wipe it off.  
  
“Alright then,” she continued, “these hands-on training sessions will lead up to two special events. Foremost will be the first annual Midwinter Masquerade to be held right before Christmas break. Every student from fifth-year and above will be required to participate. This will be followed in the spring by a school-wide duelling match.” With a broad smile on her face, Tonks waved a hand that had smudges of ink on it in Alex’s direction. “I’d like to thank Talon for these exciting suggestions. Take ten points, Alex.”  
  
Alex received mixed reactions from her fellow students. Most wore curious expressions; others were grateful for the change in class direction. The Slytherins, however, were unusually reserved.  
  
“So, this is how the Masquerade will work. You students will attempt to disguise yourselves using both magical and non-magical methods. You will incorporate not only Defence spells, but also those found in Charms and Transfiguration. The fifth years will have the benefit of wearing a mask while you sixth years have to make due with a demi-mask.” Tonks held up a pair of masks as examples. “In case you think that’s unfair, your seventh-year counterparts won’t be allowed a mask at all. Plus, they will have to defend yourself against some basic hexes. Every student will be given a special amulet that discharges a distinctive aura. It will be your job to conceal this amulet, yeah?  
  
“Now before anyone asks, potions will be allowed. Like I told Fred and George Weasley earlier today, I won’t prevent the use Polyjuice potion.”  
  
Immediately students began to whisper furiously, and Tonks held up her hands to quiet them.  
  
“I said I wouldn’t prevent it, however, that doesn’t mean Professor Snape will feel the same way. I doubt he’ll be handing out shredded Boomslang skin. And I wouldn’t suggest trying to use it in any case. I won’t be the only teacher judging you — all the professors will be present. Professor Snape is bound to be, well, bothered shall we say, if he discovers someone swigging down Polyjuice made with ingredients his personal stores, yeah?”  
  
Alex chuckled. The only thing the Vulture was liable to hand out was more detention. She had to admit, though, she was tempted to break into his private stores just out of spite. The past week had seen her unable to continue dosing Snape’s desk with the boil powder. He had become suspicious of her to the point of not giving her a moment alone in his office during detention. By now the boils should be almost gone. _It had been fun while it had lasted_ , she privately conceded.  
  
Tonks continued, “I’ll be posting all the rules later today in the Great Hall, so hold all of your questions until after it goes up. Right now, I’d like for us to get started. Today I’m going to assess how well you can handle concealment spells. We’ll start with the basics and see whether we can our way up to the Disillusionment Charm.”  
  
Tonks had the students perform spells on a variety of objects. Hiding inanimate articles, ranging from a matchbox to a desk, proved challenging for most students. Concealing a living subject had even trickier. Alex managed to be the only student to be able to successfully use the Disillusionment Charm on herself.  
  
“Excellent job, Alex!” Tonks praised her enthusiastically while clapping, despite Alex’s inconsistency when it came to Disillusioning other classmates. “Ten points for Gryffindor.”  
  
While her fellow Housemates grinned, Alex noticed that the Slytherins in the class were put out. There was more than the usual amount of muttering and dark looks. Alex decided jealousy suited them and ignored the lot.  
  
After ninety minutes of performing spells and charms, Tonks dismissed them amid much-animated discussion and speculation. As Alex left the class, she bumped into Cressida Solanum. The immaculately groomed Slytherin thrust a note into Alex’s hands with a cruel little smile and then sauntered off with a group of her housemates.  
  
Minutes later Alex stormed into the Gryffindor common room. Her hands were curled into fists so tight that her short nails gouged her palms. The finely drawn yet crude image on the note Cressy, as her friends called her, had slipped to her after Dark Arts was seared in her mind. Captioned “Teacher’s Pet”, it depicted Alex in the black jeans and sweater she had worn on her first day at Hogwarts. Attached to a hairband, a pair of wolf ears peeked from beneath her dark hair; around her neck hung a dog collar. She was enthusiastically engaged in a vulgar act with Professor Tonks, who clearly was enjoying the attention. To Alex’s disgust, the drawing was magically animated.  
  
The handful of Slytherins who had been nearby had snickered derisively when Alex opened the note and then melted away into the departing crowd as she stood there stunned. The dark desire to beat the Barbie-doll Bitch of the Dungeons into a bleeding pulp choked Alex. Tonks had sensed something was wrong, but Alex bolted, refusing to let her cousin see what had upset her. Tonks was only beginning to get her confidence back with her approach to teaching Defence.  
  
Alex knew why the Slytherins had given her the note. She had worked as hard as the others in this class and she wasn’t the only one who had earned points, but Tonks had singled her out for praise. She pushed the murderous thoughts out of her mind. There were better methods for dealing with snakes that were, perhaps, even more satisfying than using her fists.  
  
In light of recent events, Alex knew she could turn to Fred and George for help. She had a feeling they probably knew where the Slytherin common room was hidden. It would make things easier if she asked for their assistance, yet there was a part of her that simply did not want to involve anyone else. Since her stepfather’s death, Alex had always tried to stand on her own two feet.  
  
So instead of seeking their help, Alex set out to track a snake. During the next Potions class a day later, she made sure to sit in front of Draco. She bit her tongue every time he kicked her stool and mockingly howled softly. It was clear word had spread around the Slytherins about the note.  
  
 _Patience,_ Alex, she told herself. _Some brews take longer to prepare than others. Wait until the Vulture tells the class to start working._  
  
As soon as the Potions Master told the class to start tending to their cauldrons, Alex pretended to drop a phial of pomegranate juice. It broke with a tinkling of shattered glass, splashing juice everywhere.  
  
“Talon! Ten points for clumsiness. Clean your mess, no magic.”  
  
Alex gladly followed Snape’s orders. While she knelt down to wipe it up, she slipped out another phial from her pocket. A quick twist opened it and then she tapped her wand. The colorless liquid adhered itself to the bottom of Draco’s shoes without anyone noticing.  
  
 _Who needs breadcrumbs when you can use a potion that will leave invisible footprints? Forensics meets magic. Eat your heart out, Mr. Holmes!_  
  
After detention that evening, Alex followed the tracks Draco had left behind. All that she had needed were a pair of worn sunglasses left over from summer, and an enchantment she had learned from the other camp counselors from that past summer. The traces from Draco’s footprints glowed eerily as she followed them from classroom to classroom, to two different boys’ bathrooms, the Great Hall and finally to where they ended in front of a blank wall in the dungeons.  
  
 _Well, well … the snakes’ hang out is in the dungeons. Why doesn’t that surprise me?_  
  
Alex settled in a corner nearby and waited patiently. The Disillusionment Charm she had cast since leaving detention kept her hidden well enough. When Ian McCready finished his late patrol of the castle as part of his Prefect duties, Alex crept close.  
  
“Ouroboros.”  
  
Alex smiled. Now, she knew not only where the Slytherin common room - or the Snake Pit as she named it in her mind - was located, but also the password to get in.  
  
She was one step closer to exacting her revenge.  
  
  


~ ~ * ~ ~

 

The following night the moon rose over the Forbidden Forest and a bank of fog ascended from the lake. A dark grey wolf emerged from the cover of the trees, sneezed violently, and then pawed at her face.

Alex looked at the remains of the Acromantula web on her paw. The sticky strands gleamed faintly in the moonlight. When she had entered the Forest looking for the last ingredients needed for her plan, Alex had not realized that the large spiders inhabited a section of the forest. Luckily she had spotted the adolescent monster before it had sensed her. The thought that perhaps Granger was right regarding the dangers lurking in the Forest crossed her mind.

Then the scent that tickled her nose with her next breath drove that thought out. Alex circled the area until she found the footprints. They were fresh, and just like last time, they seemed to head towards the school. Instead of following them, however, Alex abandoned the footprints and trotted along the edge of the forest. The last time, the person had returned to the Forest further south. She had a feeling they would follow the same pattern.

When she was close to the previous reentry point, Alex hid behind a tree and waited. The fog made it so that detecting movement was difficult. A slight breeze swirled the mist, playing tricks on the eyes and making shadows look almost like figures. Moments passed, slowly turning into a quarter of an hour and then half an hour. Alex began to think she had made a miscalculation when a shadowy shape coalesced in the fog and resolved into the form of a man. As he came closer, Alex could make out the rumpled robes and the grey hair scattered among the dark brown strands.

 _Remus?_ Alex mentally slapped her forehead. _Of course, the scent! I should have recognized it. But what is he doing here, walking around Hogwarts at night?_

Remus Lupin looked back over his shoulder and gazed at the towers of Hogwarts rising above the mist. A slim wand was slipped out of his pocket and from it erupted the sleek, feminine form of a silvery wolf.

 _No, a werewolf,_ Alex corrected herself, noting the telltale short snort and tufted tail.

As the ghostly animal bounded in the air around him, Alex heard Remus speak softly, “All is clear, Albus.” The wolf streaked off into the darkness towards the castle.

At its swift departure, Alex shifted her weight and a twig under her paw suddenly cracked. Lupin turned in a heartbeat at the sound and silently cast a spell. Unexpectedly immobile, all Alex could do was watch as he approached warily. His eyes narrowed as he spotted her crouching behind the tree, with her distinctive dark grey fur, black markings, and bright silver eyes.

“Alex?” Disbelief rapidly changed to anger. His voice dropped to almost a growl. “Alexis Hawks Talon!”

Unable to look away, Alex had to bear the look in his eyes. The image of a cub pinned to the ground and nipped on the ear for an indiscretion flashed before her. Then Remus broke eye contact with a sigh and released Alex from the spell.

Before she had even finished transforming, he started in on her. “Exactly what do you think you’re doing out here in the Forbidden Forest?”

Alex ran a hand through her hair as if to straighten it while discretely feeling for cobwebs. “I’m not in the Forest, I’m at the edge,” she pointed out. Then she drew her jacket close around her as if chilled and crossed her arms, all in an effort to hide her potions bag hidden underneath. “And I was following a set of suspicious footprints that circle Hogwarts, just like the other set I found a few days ago. What are you doing, patrolling the school or something?”

Lupin said, “I’m here on Order business. You, on the other hand, are breaking curfew along with any number of other rules.” He reached forward and pulled something off her shoulder. “I also happen to know for a fact that Acromantulas do not hunt at the edge of the Forest.”

Several strands of the web were stuck to his fingers. Alex glanced away trying hard not to blush as he brushed his hand against his trousers. Her motion set her potions bag bumping awkwardly against her right thigh.

“Now, get yourself back in the school and to your common room before I report you to Dumbledore.” His eyes narrowed momentarily as he tilted his head and looked at her right side closely.

Alex had to think quickly. Remus would know she was up to something if he discovered her bag. “But what about-”

“No buts, Alex.”

“-my mother? Has the Order found out anything? Sirius said you guys had someone looking into it.” The question was not only something Alex genuinely cared about, but also served to divert Remus’ attention.

As intended, Lupin halted and a frown creased his face. “Sirius said? When have you spoken to Sirius?”

She shrugged nonchalantly; secretly Alex was glad his attention had been sidetracked. “He appeared in the common room fireplace over a week ago, talking first to Harry and then to me. I thought you said the fireplaces were being monitored.”

“They are being monitored.” Remus shook his head and muttered under his breath something about this being the third time and the perils of irresponsible friends before seeming to remember Alex’s question. “Never mind that. I’m sorry, Alex. I have a — ” he hesitated as if trying to pick his words carefully, ”a friend in the USBMS who’s looking into things across the pond. She thinks that there may have been a misidentification of one of the remains, but there are complications. The bodies were released to their kin and have already received burials.”

Alex’s expression fell. The events that led to her mother’s death still haunted her. They were the reason she was even in Hogwarts.

“Have patience. Sarah will clear it up soon,” Lupin said softly. “In the meantime, get yourself back inside and follow the rules.”

With a half-hearted growl of consent, Alex trudged off to the school. Only when she was halfway there did Alex allow a private smile. The potions bag and its newly acquired ingredients had remained undetected under her cloak. Remus hadn’t even noticed it.

 

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

Barely two hours later, Alex slipped into the Snake Pit, dressed in a different set of clothes unmarked by Acromantula webs. Strapped across her chest was a belt with several pouches attached to it.

The shadows were thick in the common room, but they didn’t hamper her. Her grey eyes shined like pools of quicksilver fire in the darkness; it was the result of a spell that she had invented, _‘Lumos oculus’_. The spell allowed one to see in the dark. Its only drawback was the telltale shine to her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to call attention to herself with the standard light spell, though.

The Snake Pit featured a cavernous common room filled with wing chairs and an enormous fireplace. The damp chill in the air reminded Alex sharply of Snape’s office. From the main room, two corridors led off. The left passageway turned out to be the hall to the boys’ area. Alex backtracked and took the other route, cautiously peering into each room. After fifteen minutes of tense searching, she located Cressida Solanum.

Like Alex, Cressida shared her room with only two other students, which made it easier for Alex to accomplish her goal. She slipped into the room and with barely a whisper bewitched the Slytherin girls into a much deeper sleep. In this state of semi-suspended animation, none of the three could hear Alex rummaging through their belongings.

She hit pay dirt a few minutes later. Alex had figured Cressida the type of vain girl that would keep a number of exclusive beauty and hair-care products; she had in fact, counted on it. A splash of a little something extra in the shampoo and conditioner; a few drops in the facial cream. Alex lovingly tampered with each one. Then like a phantom, she stole away after releasing the girls from their enchanted slumber.

As she headed back down the corridor, she passed by the girls’ lavatories. Alex went to each toilet and applied a thin opaque potion to each seat. Within minutes it cured to an invisible adhesive that was incredibly durable. It was yet another trick she had picked up at the summer camp. The older counselors had seen any number of pranks in their time and had shared with Alex some of the best.

By now Alex had realized that she was pressing her luck, but she made one more stop at the boys’ lavatories. There she applied the same adhesive. Why torment only the girls when the Slytherin boys obviously had had a hand in the disgusting note?

She could hardly wait until the following day. With a malicious grin, she left the Snake Pit.

 

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

Alex woke up later than usual, dead tired from her nocturnal activities, and had to hustle to get breakfast before class. At the entrance to the Great Hall, though, Fred and George waylaid her. They suddenly flanked her on either side with identical grins on their faces and led her to an unoccupied part of the Gryffindor table.

“Good morning, Alex.” Fred relieved her of her messenger bag and handed it to his twin.

George plopped the bag on the far side of himself where Alex had no way of easily reaching it. “Did you have a good evening strolling about the castle after curfew?”

Alex shook her head. “What are you guys talking about?” She reached over to steal back her bag, but George pushed her hand away.

“You were out of the common room late last night for several hours.” George wagged a finger under her nose.

“Funny, the Slytherins got hit last night. Someone tampered with their loos and several snakes got stuck in, um, compromising positions.”

Alex bit the inside of her cheek hard in an effort to quell a smile and reached for some toast. When a distraught wail from the Slytherin table brought the Great Hall to silence, Alex lost the battle and ducked her face into her hands to hide her grin.

“My hair!”

Cressida Solanum stood up, holding a large handful of hair. The clump of golden strands fell to the table. A bald patch graced the left side of her head. There was a spattering of giggles as the panic-stricken young woman frantically grabbed another handful of rapidly shedding hair. With a strangled scream, Cressida ran from the Great Hall leaving a trail of golden locks.

Alex watched her rival’s departure, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. There were tears of joy in her eyes. Walking by Harry and his two friends paused to give her a strange look. Hermione glanced at the Slytherin table and then back to Alex suspiciously.

“Poor Cressida. Bad hair day, I guess,” Alex choked out, giving the twins a wink. While they digested her comment, Alex snatched her bag from across George’s lap and fled the Great Hall.

 _How do you like me now?_ Alex thought spitefully.

By the end of the morning, it was known across Hogwarts that more than half a dozen Slytherins had been glued to their toilet seats. Some of the unfortunates included McCready, Malfoy and a sixth-year girl named Davis. Cressida Solanum lost her entire head of hair. Each time it re-grew, the hair promptly fell out again. Alex knew this would continue only as long as Cressida insisted on using the exclusive hair products. The facial cream made her break out in huge pimples by late afternoon.

While Hermione did not have solid evidence that Alex was responsible, the Prefect was highly suspicious of Alex’s reaction in the Great Hall. Hermione made a point that evening of wondering aloud whether Alex should have been Sorted into Slytherin. The comment stayed with Alex no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.

No one, however, could have predicted the ferocity of the Slytherins’ response to the pranks. The next morning, the Gryffindors awoke to find their common room had been redecorated green and silver.

“This is their best?” Lee Jordan asked the Weasley twins incredulously as he absently scratched under his robes.

Fred shook his head in disappointment. “A deplorable lack of creativity, I’d say.”

It wasn’t until a quarter of an hour later that it became obvious that a change of colors wasn’t the only thing that had been tampered with. Every Gryffindor robe had been treated in heat-sensitive itching powder that took several minutes to activate. After that, the Gryffindors learned it didn’t matter if they took off their robes; the effect lasted the entire morning. Although Alex had been lucky enough not have put her robes on first thing, and as a result had been one of the few not scratching until lunch, she still had to endure snide suggestions that perhaps the wolf of Gryffindor had infected her House with fleas.

A day later, the showers in the Ravenclaws’ lavatories were bespelled. It wasn’t discovered until victims went into the sunlight. The color of their skin immediately changed to a lurid green upon even the briefest exposure to light and stayed that way for nearly three days despite counter-charms and multiple showers.

Even the Hufflepuffs hadn’t been excluded. They straggled into the Great Hall late the next morning with mushroom growing out of their hair and large warts on various extremities. They had had to struggle to even get out of their dorm rooms. The doorknobs in their House were alternately charmed to bite unsuspecting victims or either had been coated with a slimy, slippery substance that made gripping the knob and turning it nearly impossible.

Someone retaliated those pranks by spiking the drinks served to the Slytherins over lunch. Squeaky chipmunk voices randomly uttering foul language whenever a Slytherin addressed a teacher was the result and had the other Houses howling with laughter. Subsequently, a large number of Ravenclaw first-years woke up covered in blue fur that had sprouted from their skin. Alex thought she’d laugh herself silly at the thought of dozens of blue Cousin Itts running around their common room, or “the Aerie” as she had nicknamed it.

The hallways soon became part of the battleground. Hexes and curses flew between classes. The teachers ran short of tempers and patience. Professor Tonks even threatened to cancel the upcoming Masquerade and return to the dreaded Ministry-devised curriculum.

Those threats failed to faze whoever had been responsible for the toilets in the Lion’s Den. They backed up unexpectedly in the middle of the night, driving everyone out with the horribly putrid stench. A dozen dung-bombs could not have been worse. The floor of their common room was covered in a foul, viscous fluid. It took McGonagall two days just to get the smell out.

Amid it all, Alex had to admit she was impressed with some of the inventiveness of the ongoing gags. She wondered just how far it would go and which common room — Snake Pit, Aerie, Lion’s Den and Warren — would be struck next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit goes to Marshal for the brilliant idea on the note Alex was given. You’re a lifesaver and a genius! Also thanks to Rumpelstiltskin for kindly looking over things. Finally, I have to pay recognition to my beta, narcissablack, for sticking with me and being a fangirl despite my craziness.
> 
> Mr. Holmes is a reference to Sherlock Holmes, created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> The term 'ourorboros' comes from the Greek for 'tail eater'. It is the symbol of a circled snake devouring its own tail.
> 
> Cousin Itt is from The Addams Family, shown from 1964-1966 and produced by Filmways Television.
> 
> Chapter title from “One Way or Another”, Blondie, Parallel Lines 
> 
> I realize that in canon Tracey Davis entered Hogwarts the same year as Harry Potter. However, as this story is firmly in the AU realm, I’ve opted to move Tracey one year ahead.


	11. When the Levee Breaks

It was nearing twelve-thirty when Alex first heard the peculiar sloshing sounds. She had been silently trailing Fred and George as they made their way down a series of passages that led past the small chamber just off the Entrance Hall.  
  
The last couple of nights, Alex had watched members of each House sneaking back and forth in the darkness despite the curfew. It had been more enlightening than the article in the _Hogwarts Herald_ covering the latest round of pranks. Not only had she learned of the existence and location of a dozen secret passages, she had overheard the new password to the Snake Pit as well to as the Warren. Access to the Ravenclaw common room was a little trickier; theirs seemed to more of a riddle, but she had heard several and was confident she could gain entrance if needed.  
  
More intriguing to Alex were the identities and dynamics of the pranksters. Fred, George, and Lee were easy picks. Their reputations preceded them.  
  
 _If they offered a class on pranking, those three would be taking the teacher to school. That trick with the exploding bubbles filled with the essence of dragon crap was wicked! But McCready and Worthington?_ Alex shook her head even as she kept an eye on the Weasley twins. _Never would have pegged a pair of Prefects to get involved._  
  
McCready had led a handful of sixth and seventh-year Slytherins on a raid against Ravenclaw just a few nights back. It was then that Alex learned they had been responsible for the Hufflepuffs suddenly sprouting mushrooms from their heads. Miles Bletchley and Vaisey couldn’t shut up on the way to the Aerie.  
  
Isolde Worthington, the Prefect that Alex sat next to in Charms, took a more unexpected approach; she had headed up a group of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs that together had jinxed the entire Slytherin Quidditch team equipment the previous week. The idea of two Houses joining together had struck Alex as odd. While the Isolde and Mara were well known to be best friends, it was surprising the pair had convinced their Housemates to go along with the idea. As far as Alex knew, no one else among the Gryffindors had any idea the two Houses had joined forces.  
  
On this night, however, Alex had set out to watch Fred and George work their trade. Ahead of her, they had also noticed the sloshing noises and had ducked behind the suits of armor near the front doors. It sounded like several people were moving through water. The noises were coming from the stairs leading to the dungeons.  
  
“What should we do?” A feminine voice wheezed, thick with worry. “It wasn’t supposed to flood like that!” Mara Smith tromped into Alex’s enhanced night vision. Her short hair was a riot of curls that served to accentuate her round face. The heavy-set Hufflepuff sat in the row ahead of Alex in Ancient Runes. Professor Amhurst often favored her, as Mara was his niece.  
  
Another voice answered. “Yes, it got a little out of hand, Mara, but it’s not a problem.” Alex recognized Isolde’s calming voice before the statuesque Prefect walked into view. “I researched and cross referenced the spell myself. As soon as the charm we placed on McCready’s school bag wears off, which I estimate should be no more than a few additional minutes, the rift will seal itself.”  
  
 _Ah, so Isolde the Raven and Mara the Hound have their group out and about tonight._ Alex still couldn’t figure how they had ended up with those particular nicknames or why they seemed to embrace them. _So that accounts for three of the Houses. Wonder what the Slytherins are up to?_  
  
“So the snakes will just get a little wet,” a third, unknown voice chimed as several more clambered into view. “We’d better get back to our common rooms, though.”  
  
Alex glanced down and noticed that all five of them had wet shoes. Their sneakers – _trainers, Alex, that’s what they call them here_ \- made squelching sounds.  
  
Isolde disappeared up the marble staircase with two others, leaving Mara to lead another down to the Warren. After waiting a few minutes to ensure all was clear, Fred and George snuck out. Alex slinked behind them, maintaining a safe distance. She wasn’t sure how they’d react if they discovered her following them, not after she turned down their offers to run a few tricks together. Alex had no intention of being their next target.  
  
Trails of wet footprints led from the dungeon stairs. A few steps down, she could see that water lapped at the bottom step. The further she ventured down the corridor, the deeper the water became. She tried to move as quietly as possible, hoping that the twins would mistake any noise she made as odd echoes of their own making. It made the going slow, but there was nothing for it.  
  
 _I wonder if they’re going to raid the Vulture’s supplies again like they did last weekend. What was it they took?_ The memory teased at Alex. _Oh yeah, boomslang skin, olibanum, and gillyweed._  
  
“Looks like the Snake Pit is getting a bath,” George said, borrowing Alex’s nickname of the Slytherin common room. She wondered briefly where he had overheard her say that.  
  
“Brilliant!” responded Fred as they continued past the Vulture’s office without turning aside.  
  
 _Guess no break-in tonight. Then again, they did mention something about going to the apothecary in Hogsmeade next weekend. I might need to check that place out,_ Alex mulled as she trailed further behind them, peering down at the cold water now well above her ankles. She paused to dip her hand in, sniffed and then tentatively tasted it. Thoughts of the apothecary were banished from her head. The water was from the immense lake next to Hogwarts.  
  
 _What the hell did Isolde to do get this much lake water down here?_  
  
As the twins rounded the next corner, a familiar icy voice rang out. “What do we have here? _Lumos!_ ”  
  
It was none other than the Vulture. Alex pressed her back against the wall and froze. Around the corner, Fred and George sputtered. Alex could see the play of their shadows from the light cast by the braziers and Snape’s wand.  
  
“I should have known you Weasleys would be the culprits behind these pranks.” His voice dropped low. Alex could almost feel his anger from around the corner. “I will see to it that Dumbledore expels both of you for this!”  
  
The twins tried to protest, but Snape ignored them. Alex slipped into a small alcove and hid behind a gargoyle fountain just before Snape swept around the corner. She quickly ducked her head so that her shining eyes would not betray her presence. Snape marched the twins ahead of him, brushing so close to Alex that the heavy edge of his wet robes grazed her.  
  
She was torn as she watched them head down the corridor. The Weasleys didn’t have anything to do with this prank. It had been Isolde’s group and if she didn’t speak up, Snape would undoubtedly try his best to have them expelled for something they had nothing to do with. If she did protest, however, the Vulture would only consider her an accomplice.  
  
 _Something’s seriously wrong. Can’t Snape see the water’s getting higher? Has his anger blinded him or is something else distracting him?_ Alex watched the Potions Master slog out of sight.  
  
It was the cold, black water that decided it for Alex. Slowly rising, it had almost reached to her knees. A hard, small lump sat in her stomach.  
  
First things first, let’s find out what Mara was so worried about and why this water is rising. Then I can talk to Dumbledore. He’ll believe me – he has to.  
  
Her feet were freezing. As she turned down another corridor, she could feel the water swirl around her legs. Down the corridor and several turns later, Alex heard a dull thumping and the sound of moving water. With her enchanted night vision, she could see water gushing out at the seams of the secret door that led to the Snake Pit. As she got closer, she distinguished panicky shouts for help, the loudest of which was familiar.  
  
Alex yelled the current password but the door stubbornly remained closed. From inside she heard the same voice, recognized it as McCready’s as he attempted to use the Alohomora Charm to no avail.  
  
 _The door must be sealed with some resistant-type of locking spell._  
  
Alex banged on the door with her fist. “McCready!” The cold water splashed on her face.  
  
“Talon? Is that you?” he responded. “Fecking hell, Talon! Are you the shite responsible?”  
  
“Yeah it’s me, but I had nothing to do with this! Listen, let’s try the Alohomora Charm together on my mark. Ready?” She gave him a moment. “Three! Two! One! Mark!”  
  
The door thrummed under multiple unlocking spells, vibrating wildly, but continued to hold fast.  
  
“It’s no good, Talon! The water’s rising too fast.”  
  
“You’re right!” Alex admitted. As much as Alex despised the note that Cressida and her friends had given her, Alex drew the line at people dying. “I’m going to get help!”  
  
“Get Professor Snape! The lock spell – it’s his! Hurry!”  
  
“I promise! I’ll be right back!” Alex pocketed her wand and tried to struggle through the rising waters. The way was difficult as an undercurrent threatened to sweep her off her feet. Alex wished for once that she could change into her stepfather’s namesake of a hawk. When she finally reached the dungeon stairs, the water had risen up several steps. Snape and the Weasley twins were nowhere to be seen.  
  
 _Damnitall!_ Her silvered eyes scanned up the empty stairs. _They couldn’t have gotten that far ahead. Unless…maybe Snape used some secret passage I don’t know about?_  
  
Alex shed her human form for that of her nimble-footed wolf and bounded up the marble stairs. It was six long flights up and a lengthy passageway before she reached Dumbledore’s office. She swiftly transformed back and was thankful that Dumbledore had not changed his password. The stone statue swung around. As the staircase ascended, Alex could hear the loud grousing of Snape going on about Fred and George.  
  
“Dumbledore!” Alex slammed open the door and ran to his desk. “There’s an emergency! The dungeon is flooding!” She squinted her bespelled eyes as they watered under the bright lights in his office. Holding a hand up to shade them barely lessened the effect.  
  
“How curious! Professor Snape has just been informing me of that problem,” Dumbledore responded mildly. His eyes, however, were very intent.  
  
“You’re responsible.” Snape had recovered. His voice was glacial as he pointed at her soaked lower legs. “You were with them.”  
  
“To hell with who’s to blame!” Alex whirled around and jabbed a finger at the Vulture’s chest. “The water’s rising and you locked the Snake Pit up tight. Your snakes are trapped.”  
  
The blood drained from Snape’s face. His obsidian eyes widened as the implication of her words sank in.  
  
Alex turned back to Dumbledore. “McCready can’t open the door; none of them can. The Slytherins are going to drown! We have to get down there now!”  
  
Dumbledore rose swiftly to his feet. He barked an order at Snape and the Weasleys to follow. As the Headmaster raced down the stairs, his magically magnified voice echoed through the halls of Hogwarts.  
  
“All teachers immediately report to the dungeons! All teachers–”  
  
Alex transformed back into a wolf and raced ahead of them. She let loose a mournful howl that warned of danger.  
  
Halfway down the staircase, Alex passed Professor Flitwick and Isolde. She surged forward around the last flight of steps and then skidded to a stop to shift back to her human form, arriving ahead of everyone else. At the top of the dungeon stairs, she found that the dark waters had nearly engulfed the lower passageway. All of the braziers had been extinguished. Only a hand span of air remained at the top of the subterranean corridor.  
  
Alex could hear fierce splashing and yelling. With her night vision, she could see McCready and dozens of other Slytherins. Some of the older ones had performed the Bubble-Head Charm and were towing the younger students.  
  
 _How the hell did they get out?_  
  
“McCready!” Alex yelled and dove in to reach him. He handed her a half-drowned Cressida. Without wavering, Alex dragged the limp Barbie Doll Bitch of the Dungeons out of the water and passed her to Isolde, who had only just arrived. Out of nowhere, Mara appeared and together they helped pull out Malfoy, who resembled a drowned, pale ferret. Footsteps behind Alex announced the arrival of others.  
  
“There are more still trapped in the common room!” McCready shouted from within his air bubble.  
  
Alex raised her wand. “McCready! _Lumos oculus!_ ” A silvery beam shot out of her wand. McCready hesitated as his eyes adjusted to see in the darkness and returned the favor by charming an air bubble for her.  
  
Without another word, they dove into the black waters. Alex hugged the wall, using the stones of the wall as handholds. A strong current hampered her progress. Dozens of struggling students drifted above, some barely above the water. McCready hit them with the Bubble-Head charm. As Alex rounded a corner, she glanced over her shoulder and spotted several other students. They were passing each Slytherin student safely back to the Entrance Hall.  
  
Then Alex turned back to the task at hand and pulled herself forward. Her arms were aching by the time they finally arrived at the Snake Pit. Alex saw a jagged hole that had been blasted through the wall. She was surprised that McCready could have fit; the opening wasn’t large. There was no time to wonder as McCready squirmed through and Alex followed suit.  
  
The Slytherin common room glowed with an eerie green that seemed to seep from the walls. Furniture floated and spun lazily in the current. Wicked blue light that shifted and flickered caught Alex’s attention. A ragged tear wrapped in sapphire flames hovered in the enormous fireplace. The warped rift stood almost as tall as Alex. Tangled on the mantle just behind the rift was the remains of a school bag.  
  
 _Holy shit! How the hell did the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs do that?_  
  
As she watched, a clump of weeds swirled out of the tear and upwards where it tangled itself around several pairs of legs. Several first-year Slytherins were clinging to the uneven roof where a small air pocket remained. They kicked feebly at the weeds, but were unable to dislodge the clump. Seconds later, Alex and McCready had destroyed the aquatic plants and charmed the students with air bubbles. Isolde guided them to the opening and then returned.  
  
McCready turned to Alex. The air bubble that encased his head gave his voice a distant quality. “I’ll take the boy’s hall. You take the girls’, Alex,” he instructed. “Isolde, go back down to the Main Hall with some others. Make sure no one got trapped near the unused classrooms.”  
  
As Alex headed toward the girl's hall, the door to the Snake Pit opened. Snape and Dumbledore strode in, their robes billowing behind them. Beams of light glowed from their wands and air bubbles protected their heads.  
  
Alex didn’t pause to wonder how they were able to walk upright against the flow of water; she turned her attention to the hall she had been assigned. The unevenness of the ceiling throughout the Snake Pit had left a number of air pockets forcing Alex to check each room for students. Three doors down, Alex found more trapped students that looked to be first-years. A water demon had its long, brittle fingers wrapped in robes of one of the girls. Alex stunned the grindylow, charmed the students with Bubble-Heads and sent them off.  
  
Abruptly hands grabbed Alex’s shoulders. She was startled to find Fred and George. Their fingers were webbed and both sported gills.  
  
“Gillyweed!” they announced in oddly distorted voices.  
  
 _Had they been carrying ingredient around in their pockets or did they steal more from Professor Snape’s stores?_ Alex couldn’t guess as they worked together to rapidly clear the Slytherin girls’ corridor. Then they made their way back to the common room. The twins ducked out the hole to the main corridor and turned, heading deeper into the dungeons where Isolde had gone.  
  
Alex halted at the sight in the common room. Professors Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick were arranged in a semicircle around the fireplace. Snape was closest to the corridor Alex had just exited and his dark eyes flashed angrily at her appearance.  
  
The furniture overhead in the common room was no longer moving and appeared to be fixed in place. Behind the semicircle, McCready waved at her. He had one arm clutched around a stone brazier. Alex pocketed her wand and began swimming to join her Slytherin rival when Dumbledore started his incantation.  
  
A gold beam of light shot out of his wand and struck the rift. The other Professors followed the Headmaster’s lead. Four more golden beams smashed into the fireplace. Alex paused and watched mesmerized as the sapphire flames weakly flickered for a moment only to flare larger. At the same time, the current flowing from the rift eddied and slowly became calm.  
  
Alex breathed a sigh of relief. _That’s it! They stopped the water coming in. Now how are they going to get rid of -_  
  
With a violent churn, the water reversed and began to rush headlong back into the rift, catching Alex unprepared. The turbulent flow of water twisted her about, wrenching her violently. The air bubble that enclosed her head was ripped away before she could even think to take a deep breath. Strands of hair stingingly whipped around her face as the current dragged Alex. She caught a spinning glimpse of McCready holding onto the stone brazier desperately with both hands and tried to reach out towards him. Then without warning her head glanced off an immobile wingchair. Stunned, Alex limply swirled closer to the rift.  
  
Abruptly something solid painfully slammed into Alex’s midsection as she spun near a gold beam of light. Whatever had hit her grasped her tight, halting her movement. Alex peered down and through the rippling strands of her hair saw a black clad arm. She followed it back to its owner. Snape didn’t so much as spare her a glance as he pulled her close; his eyes were locked onto the fireplace. In his other hand, his wand continued to pour magic into the rift. The Potions Master tucked her firmly against his left side.  
  
Alex instinctively reached out and locked her arms around his neck and hooked her legs around his own. Deep within she felt an odd reverberation, a haunting echo as her lungs ached for air. Her head rang from the blow from the chair. Under his black robes, she could feel hard, wiry muscles as Snape stood stationary against the rushing tide.  
  
While she clung to him an errant question briefly passed through her mind how his air bubble remained in place even as the water still threatened to drag her away. Then Alex realized there was more than just a general feeling of being dragged; there was a clear yanking sensation at her wrist. The loose ends of the ties securing her wolf-bone bracelet were caught in the unrelenting current.  
  
Panic began to set in, but there was nothing she could do. The sound of her own heartbeat was harsh in her ears. She looked up past Snape’s profile and saw the water level was slowly dropping.  
  
 _Gotta hold on, just a little longer!_  
  
Black spots hovered at the edges of her vision and threatened to overwhelm her. Then the ties of her bracelet separated. In a flash, the current swept it away. She tried to snatch at her stepfather’s gift with one hand, but it was too late.  
  
“No!” she screamed in a burst of bubbles with the last bit of air left. Instinctively she tried to inhale and water rushed down her throat and into her lungs. Alex convulsed against Snape, pressing her face against his chest. The weave of his robes was rough on her cheek as she choked and thrashed.  
  
Then the water surrounding them was gone. Cold air kissed her skin as a loud sucking noise filled the common room, sounding as if there was an enormous drain.  
  
Alex gagged and violently coughed, and then released her death-grip on her least favorite instructor. The unyielding support at her waist vanished without warning. She limply slid down the length of his body to her shaky hands and knees. Then her stomach heaved and a mixture of water and bile gushed on to the black shoes just below her face. Sitting back on her heels, all Alex could see in her mind’s eye was her bracelet being torn from her wrist. Tears mingled with lake water dripping from her hair and across her downcast face.  
  
 _I’ve lost it,_ she thought in a daze. _I’ll never be able to change into a wolf again._  
  
Standing over her, Snape made a noise of disgust in the back of his throat and moved away, but not before dropping something onto the floor next to Alex. Her bracelet landed with the hollow clatter of bones striking stone.  
  
Her mouth sagged open in shock. Trembling fingers reached out to clutch the bracelet to her chest. When Alex looked up, Snape had already completely disregarded her. She watched wordlessly as he walked towards Dumbledore and McGonagall.  
  
 _How did he …_  
  
Slowly she secured the bracelet around her wrist, not knowing what to think about the Potions Master. As she stared, Snape flicked his wand and water cascaded off of him, leaving him dry.  
  
“Talon. Alright there?”  
  
Alex looked over her shoulder at McCready and found herself grateful for the distraction. He staggered over and offered her a hand. The Slytherin Prefect pulled her effortlessly to her feet in one swift motion.  
  
“I’ll live,” she answered in a raspy voice. With her free hand, she rubbed the lump that was beginning to form on her temple from the blow of the wingchair.  
  
“You kept your promise and brought help.” McCready looked at Alex oddly and dropped her hand.  
  
She gave a half-hearted shrug not quite knowing how to respond. How had the evening gone from trailing the Weasley twins to this? Her eyes fleetingly flicked back towards Snape before returning to McCready.  
  
“Annoying Gryffindor trait, I guess?” She waved a hand to encompass the common room. Professor Flitwick was busy floating down furniture down to the floor with McGonagall’s assistance. “At least the Snake Pit’s clean.”  
  
McCready snorted in displeasure. Alex glanced over at him and watched a clump of green lake weeds dropped from the ceiling and unceremoniously onto his head. The absurd image of McCready sporting green dreadlocks struck Alex hard. Unexpectedly, a hoarse chuckle bubbled up. She had nearly drowned and almost had lost her beloved bracelet, and yet there she was jamming a fist in her mouth in an attempt not to laugh outright. It was all too much. Her efforts were rewarded with a dirty look. McCready flung the offending weeds at Alex. With a splat they landed on her chest and clung to her wet shirt until she plucked them off.  
  
“Why so serious, McCready?” She chided him between husky giggles, “Really, it could be worse… at least it’s Slytherin green!” She tossed it back at him where it hung off one ear before sliding down his back.  
  
His nostrils flared in annoyance. “Out!” He pushed her toward the door.  
  
“You know, that’s the problem with you Slytherins,” Alex advised solemnly. “No sense of humor.”  
  
  


~ ~ * ~ ~

 

The subsequent assembly in the Great Hall early the next morning was starkly devoid of humor. The student body watched quietly as Dumbledore approached the lectern. Grim expressions graced the faces of the entire teaching staff that stood just behind the Headmaster. Off to the side, Filch held an armful of polished chains; there was a worrisome twinkle in his eyes and a nasty grin of gleeful anticipation.

“In the long history of Hogwarts, there have always been pranks exchanged between our Houses,” Dumbledore began in a mild yet firm voice. “Indeed, this year has been no exception. What unfolded last night was no mere trick, however, but a tragedy that was barely averted. More than a dozen students are still under Madam Pomfrey’s care for injuries stemming from the evening’s illicit activities.”

Dumbledore paused and eyed the students for a long moment.

“As a result, the administration will conduct a thorough investigation into the past infractions and discover those responsible. Rest assured, the Board of Governors will accept nothing less. I would advise that anyone involved in these activities to turn themselves in now voluntarily.”

A heavy silence descended, smothering the hall. From her seat at the Gryffindor table, Alex exchanged glances with the Weasley twins. Both looked away quickly.

“I am afraid that otherwise,” the Headmaster continued, “things will not go lightly for those whose participation is eventually uncovered.”

Alex’s gaze slid to the Slytherin table. McCready caught her glance and shot her a heavily questioning look that seemed to ask if she had been responsible for the pranks. Alex nodded her head ever so slightly and shrugged. She may not have been actively involved once things got started, but was no doubt in her mind that her reaction to the Slytherin note was what had kicked events off. Then she raised her eyebrows at him.

_If I can admit it, so can you. I know you were part of it._

The Slytherin Prefect gave a sharp nod as if he could hear Alex’s unspoken words and then glanced at the head table. When he looked back at Alex, a silent understanding passed between them. As one, they rose from their seats and faced Dumbledore.

_If you’re going to walk on thin ice…_

“What are you doing?” Fred frantically whispered. Alex ignored him as well as George, who hissed at her to sit down.

_…might as well dance across with style._

Unconsciously she touched her wolf-bone bracelet for reassurance as the weight of the stares from the high table fell heavily on her. “I take full responsibility for all pranks done by the Gryffindors.”

“And I hold myself accountable for the trouble caused by the Slytherins,” McCready announced in a clear, strong voice.

It was as if the entire room inhaled sharply at their announcements. Then murmuring ensued as Dumbledore waved the two of them forward. Disappointment, suspicion, and outright anger greeted Alex as she made her way to the high table and scanned the faces of her instructors. Filch appeared ecstatic and bounced from foot to foot while Tonks eyed her with a look of unfiltered regret.

However, it was Snape’s gaze that made Alex recoil. For the first time since starting at Hogwarts, she was unable to meet his flat, emotionless stare. The incongruous sensation of his arm wrapped securely around her waist was still fresh in her mind; she was equally conscious of the bracelet now bound tightly around her wrist.

“Miss Talon? Mr. McCready?” Alex shifted her attention to Dumbledore, who waited impassively. “Am I to understand that the two of you are claiming to have committed all those activities alone, without the assistance of others?”

“Yes sir, except for the flooding the dungeons,” answered Alex.

Standing next to her, McCrady added, “I wasn’t involved in that fecking mess, either.”

Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose thoughtfully as he looked from Alex to McCready. One hand absentmindedly stroked his beard. “Who then is responsible for last night’s events?” the Headmaster inquired.

Alex looked away and bit her lower lip, unsure if she should betray Worthington or those who had been with her. She was spared that decision the next moment when Professor Flitwick coughed politely and motioned to his table. From behind her, Alex could hear soft muttering and then movement. She looked over at McCready and together they turned as Isolde Worthington and Mara Smith joined them.

“We’re to blame, sir,” Isolde admitted softly. “I discovered the spell that made the rift and asked Mara to assist me. No one else was involved.”

Mara nervously shifted in place. “We take full responsibility on behalf of our Houses, too.”

The quartet of sixth-years faced Dumbledore and the teaching staff. Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff; together they represented each House.

“Indeed,” the Headmaster responded. “The four of you will wait for me in my office.”

 

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

Admitting her transgressions in front of the entire school had been hard, but Alex found waiting for Dumbledore in his office to be almost as bad. Like the others, she found herself restless. McCready inspected a trinket on a side table that produced puffs of smoke while Worthington ran a finger over the spines of several books. In her quest for a distraction, Alex examined the Order of Merlin metal on the shelf behind his desk. She had only just noted the name Aislinn Walker inscribed on it when the Headmaster entered. Hurriedly, she replaced the medal and went to stand with the others in front of his desk.

“To say that I am disappointed in each of you would be an understatement. The four of you are among the best and the brightest of the sixth-years. Indeed, Mr. McCready and Miss Worthington, both of you are Prefects. I had expected more of you.” Dumbledore sighed and shook his head as his words sank in.

“On the other hand, I must also acknowledge, with no small amount of pride, the sheer courage, and the willingness to work together each of you displayed without regard to your individual Houses to save your fellow students. Indeed, you risked your own lives to do so. And although it’s glaringly obvious that others were involved, the four of you have chosen to accept the responsibility for infractions of his or her House.”

Alex glanced up in surprise at the unexpected praise. Dumbledore waved a hand at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

“Miss Worthington, not only did you help ferry students to safety, but you admitted to Professor Flitwick what had occurred and were on your way to address the problem. Miss Smith, I was informed by Madam Pomfrey you provided unflagging support in reviving the injured and providing assistance in treating them throughout the night.”

Both girls exchanged hesitant smiles. Dumbledore was not quite finished, though. He turned his gaze to Alex and McCready.

“Miss Talon, your quick actions in alerting me of the situation and your courageous deeds prevented serious casualties last night. You cast aside all rivalries to assist the Slytherins and stood by your word to Mr. McCready. However, I would not classify that as an annoying Gryffindor trait,” the Headmaster gently teased.

Alex blushed. She had not realized that Dumbledore had overheard her comment in the Snake Pit. It made her briefly wonder what else the Headmaster had observed.

“Mr. McCready, your actions were truly befitting those of a Prefect. You put the lives of your fellow Slytherins ahead of your own. You took charge of the situation, directing others to search and recover students efficiently. This allowed the other Professors and me to focus our efforts on dealing with the rift.”

McCready glowed with pride. Alex lightly elbowed him with a grin. _We’ll never hear the end of it if his head swells much more._

“Indeed, all of you are to be commended for your actions. As a result, each will receive a Special Award for Services to the School.”

Dumbledore held up a hand, silencing the imminent celebratory outburst. “Nonetheless, I must stress that should any of you engage in further violations of the policies regarding the misuse of magic in school, I will have no other recourse but to expel you. Have I made myself clear?”

As one, they nodded. Alex couldn’t help the grin tugging at her lips despite the Headmaster’s warning.

Then Dumbledore waved to the four somber figures standing silently behind them. “Now I believe your Head of Houses have something to discuss with each of you on the way back to your common rooms.”

Any ideas of celebrating withered under the stern expressions that confronted them. Alex sighed and dutifully followed McGonagall.

_Why do I have a bad feeling about this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:  
> Thanks to my previous betas from years ago: Natasha Johnson, mostlikelytolie, Wand_Waver2006, no_day_but_today and myownmuggle.
> 
> Of course, narcissablack has my everlasting gratitude for helping me in my crazy quest to re-write this story and make it better.
> 
> Chapter title from “When the Levee Breaks”, Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin IV
> 
> Written to the music of:  
> “Wheel of Fortune”, from the motion picture soundtrack to ‘Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest,’ Hans Zimmer.


	12. You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’

“Beorn’s splintery balls!” Alex muttered as her booted feet thudded down the main staircase from the library. A pair of first-year students shot Alex sideways glances under raised eyebrows. She ignored them as she continued to grouse to herself, “Bad enough I can’t go to Hogsmeade.”  
  
Alex had had plenty of time to appreciate the consequences of the events of the past week in the days that had followed. While Dumbledore had praised her as well as the other three students who had stepped up to take the blame, their respective Head of Houses hadn’t been as appreciative. The four Professors had agreed to what they felt was a suitable punishment: all Hogsmeade visitation privileges had been revoked for the remainder of the year.  
  
 _It’s not as if ol’ Sourpuss had to worry about me stocking up on supplies from Hogsmeade for more pranks against another House common room. Not after Dumbledore’s threat of expulsion or with that House Magic they set into place._  
  
New magic had been instituted as a direct consequence of the numerous infractions that had taken place within opposing common rooms. House Magic, as it had been quickly dubbed in the _Hogwarts Herald_ , acted like a shield and enclosed the entire common room, dorms, and House lavatories. Any student that did not belong to that particular House would be subject to House Magic upon entering the common room. One step over the threshold would result in a painful pins and needles sensation across the entire body. The further the non-House student ventured in, the more severe the reaction would become until he or she collapsed and spent the next several days in the Hospital Wing. At least that’s what the newsletter claimed would happen.  
  
Crossing over into another House’s common room had become something of a fashionable dare over the past week. Alex knew of a number of students that had tested the House Magic to see if it would work. Fred and George were chief among those, loudly declaring their experiments were strictly for the benefit of the school. Even so, their forays were conducted in secret because it was also said that a Head of House could invoke a stronger response at will. A trespasser could be expelled in a most violent and agonizing manner. Tonks had privately admitted to Alex that this served a secondary purpose in protecting the students from any external threats.  
  
 _And that’s when Tonks started in on it._ Alex shook her head for the hundredth time as she tightly clutched her leather-bound journal in one hand and took the passageway headed down to the dungeons. _She could have left our conversation at that. But noooo! Why did Tonks have to go and put the icing on this crap-cake called ‘No Hogsmeade Weekends’?_  
  
Alex approached the Potions master’s office reluctantly. Unconsciously she pulled her journal over her chest like a shield and fingered the engraved owl on its cover. Ever since her cousin had found out that Professor Snape had saved her during the flooding of the dungeons, Tonks had badgered Alex non-stop. She pointed out that Alex owed Professor Snape for her life and that thanking him was the least she could do.  
  
Memories of the incident irritated Alex more than not being to visit the wizarding village. In the days since, she had half-convinced herself that even if she had been sucked out into the lake, there wouldn’t have been a problem. Hadn’t her wand been safely tucked away? It wasn’t as if she couldn’t have used it to charm another air bubble and swim to the surface. That meant Snape had not truly saved her life and she didn’t owe him anything.  
  
On the other hand, Alex had to admit the blow to her head as the water rushed out of the Slytherin common room had left her stunned. In her mind flashed the image of the grindylows she had encountered in the girls’ rooms and her stomach briefly twisted into a knot. Then there was the fact that Snape had saved her wolf-bracelet, something that also gave Alex pause. Without it, she would have no access to the Cherokee magic that allowed her to transform into a wolf.  
  
Even Alex’s radio walkman had turned against her. After the first time that Tonks had confronted her, Alex had turned to it only to hear between the bursts of static part of the song, “Do I Have to Say the Words”. She had tossed the walkman into the bottom of her dorm trunk in disgust and had left it there.  
  
It was only when Tonks revealed an hour ago in the library that Snape was a member of the Order had Alex finally relented and promised to thank the Potions Master. Of course, Tonks had made Alex give her word not to say anything about that little detail.  
  
 _I can’t believe he’s an Order member. Next thing they’ll be telling me that creepy bastard Filch is one, too._ Alex knocked on the door, half-heartedly wishing he would not be inside. At least my timing should guarantee no audience. _Who’d want to willingly spend a Friday evening in Snape's presence?_  
  
Then she sighed in resignation when his clipped voice answered. Snape looked up from the stack of papers he was grading when Alex entered the gloomy office.  
  
“To what do I owe this intrusion?” he asked.  
  
“I wanted to speak with you.” Alex stood before his desk looking down. The papers Snape was grading appeared to be the homework her class had just submitted.  
  
“Then be quick about it. I do not care to have my time wasted.” He finished grading one parchment, shuffled it to another stack and started on the next.  
  
Alex’s anger started to simmer just a little at his tone. She spoke as quickly as possible, still holding the journal against her chest. “I just wanted to thank you, sir.”  
  
 _There! See, Tonks? I thanked him. Heck, I called him ‘sir’, even if he was partially responsible for my not being able to visit Hogsmeade._ Alex halfway turned to depart, relieved to be done with the task, when Snape responded lazily.  
  
“Remind me what your gratitude might be for, Talon.”  
  
Taking a deep breath, Alex reluctantly said, “For saving my bracelet and from keeping me from being sucked into the lake.” She refused to say the words “for saving my life”.  
  
Snape leveled a questioning gaze at her, one eyebrow arched skeptically.  
  
“Back in the Slytherin common room, during the flood? When I was saving your snakes?” The last part came out a little harsher than she intended.  
  
The look that crossed his face made Alex wonder what he found so disgusting: the memory of snatching her from the rushing current or the fact she had saved his students and dared to rub it in his face. Personally, she couldn’t get rid of the memory of clinging to him; it made her itch to scrub the humiliating memory from her brain. Just thinking of it had her gritting her teeth.  
  
 _Damn memory is seared so deep, I don’t need to use my ars memoriae to remember it. A Memory Charm probably wouldn’t even erase it from my brain._  
  
“If I recall correctly you thanked me by getting sick on my shoes,” Snape finally responded sardonically.  
  
Her emotions went from distaste at the recollection to resentment in a heartbeat. Her fingers curled hard around the edges of her journal. The sneer on his face struck a nerve and her anger poured out.  
  
“Well, then you have my promise I won’t puke on your shoes until after I finally get to visit Hogsmeade _next year_ ,” she snapped as resentment bubbled up over the punishment he had had a hand in devising. Alex spun on her heel and her fingers wrapped around the doorknob when Snape’s voice halted her once more.  
  
“Miss Talon, there is another matter that needs to be discussed, one prompted by our Headmaster.” He continued after letting his initial statement sink in, “Specifically, the quality of your work in class.”  
  
That got her attention. Alex had worked hard ever since that first day in class, partially out of resentment. Every potion turned in was as perfect as she could make it; every paper thorough and without any error she could find. The idea that Snape or Dumbledore would question her work made her fingernails dig crescent-shaped marks into the leather cover of the journal. Alex turned and approached his desk. She made no attempt to hide her emotions as he pushed two sheets of parchment towards her.  
  
“I awarded the grades you would have received had this been a part of your O.W.L. exam. The standard in your class was abysmal for this assignment with the exception of Granger.”*  
  
Alex eyed the parchments. One was her homework, the other a recent test. Both were marked with a black, spiky “O” at the top. Quickly she sorted through her memories for the grading scale used at Hogwarts. At AMA they had used the standard A-F.  
  
“Whoa,” she murmured, setting her journal down on his desk next to the papers, “those are top marks.”  
  
“They are,” Snape answered.  
  
Alex looked up, startled. She hadn’t meant to speak her thoughts aloud.  
  
“It would seem your work exceeds that of your classmates and my initial expectations.” His tone was curiously flat.  
  
Searching his face for clues, Alex found she could not read his expression, just that his black eyes were focused intently on her. She was reminded this was the first time they had even exchanged words since the flood.  
  
 _What’s he driving at? And what was that he said about Dumbledore, something about his prompting?_  
  
Then Alex recalled the Headmaster’s warning and a cold knot formed in her stomach. “Are you trying to say that I cheated? That I copied someone’s homework?” Fists planted on her hips, she stiffly informed him, “Because I didn’t.”  
  
Snape leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “No. Rest assured I would know if you had tried.”  
  
The knot in her stomach dissolved and she relaxed, her fingers unfurling. His response still didn’t explain understand Dumbledore’s involvement. “Okay, so let me get this right.” She briefly massaged her temple. Snape was going to give her a headache at this rate. “You don’t think I’m cheating, but I’m doing better than you expected. Good enough even when graded like it was part of the O.W.L.s, in fact…”  
  
An errant thought crossed Alex’s mind right then, an idea that might explain the comment about the Headmaster’s connection to the matter. It was so outrageous she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Does this mean you’re promoting me to sixth year Potions?” Being stuck in a class a year behind had been infuriating when she first arrived at Hogwarts.  
  
The flash of irritation that crossed the Potions Master face was unmistakable. “No, indeed not. You have yet to prove yourself.”  
  
“Prove myself? What do you call those grades, then?” Alex impatiently waved a hand towards his desk. Her eyes lit on her journal still sitting there and she quickly snatched it up. “What do you want me to do, take the O.W.L. now?”  
  
The moment the question flew off Alex’s lips, she knew that she had hit the Doxy on the head. His response merely confirmed it.  
  
“That would be my preference, but the Wizarding Examinations Authority only administers the test in May.”  
  
The end of the year would be far too late. If Alex were ever to have a chance of becoming what they referred to in the UK as Aurors, she needed to get into sixth-year Potions. The thought that Tonks might have told Snape of her aspirations was a possibility Alex didn’t want to contemplate. She was having a hard enough time pushing away a lovely bit of fantasy in which she wrapped her hands around the professor’s throat.  
  
Snape interrupted her thoughts. “I would consider giving you a comprehensive exam of my own devising before Christmas break. One that I alone will administer and grade. Prove to me you are worth the effort and are not a waste of my time by how well you score, and I will promote you to the sixth year class.”  
  
It smelled like a trap to Alex. If Snape made the test and graded it, there would be no objectivity. Who was to say he wouldn’t simply fail her?  
  
 _Is this Dumbledore’s doing or is the test Snape’s ass-backwards way of showing gratitude for saving his snakes? I’m betting on Dumbledore._  
  
Alex placed her hands on Snape’s desk and leaned towards her professor. “Since this was the Headmaster’s idea, why not let him grade it,” she proposed.  
  
Snape rose from his chair and mirrored her stance, his face level with hers. “No. Although our illustrious Headmaster may have suggested that such an exam would not be out of place, I alone will be one to score it.” His voice held as much warmth as the breath of a cold winter evening while he stared off into the distance behind her. “I am disinclined to have outside influences meddle with how I conduct my classes.”  
  
Then the professor muttered something under his breath that Alex could have sworn sounded like “Ministry” and “fools”.  
  
 _Whoa, who pissed on his magical cornflakes? He can’t be referring to Dumbledore as an outsider. Does this have something to do with the fuss Granger was raising a few days ago about the Ministry sticking their nose into Hogwarts?_  
  
Alex hadn’t paid attention to the younger Prefect’s rant at the time, nor had she bothered to read the _Daily Prophet’s_ article Granger had pointed out. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, Alex filed away that thought for later and leaned away from his desk. The time she had taken to contemplate matters, though, had not gone unnoticed.  
  
“However, if you fear you are not sufficiently up to such a challenge,” Snape started as he slid smoothly back into his chair.  
  
 _Tell me he didn’t just go there!_  
  
“Oh, I’m more than up for it,” Alex responded quickly, bringing her journal up to her chest as she crossed her arms. “Bring it on.”  
  
  


~ ~ * ~ ~

 

The following morning saw Alex yawning as she entered the boisterous atmosphere of the Great Hall. Most of the student body had already finished their meal and were animatedly talking. She blinked owlishly at the commotion, which was louder than typical for a Saturday. Her first thought was it had to be excitement over the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. The pang of longing she briefly felt was swallowed by the rumbling in her midsection.

As she took a spot among her Housemates, Alex foggily glanced at the High Table. Abruptly she did a double take. The Sorting Hat was sitting in front of the Headmaster. The last time she had seen it outside of Dumbledore’s office was when she had first arrived.

_I thought that thing only came out at the beginning of the year._

After rubbing her eyes and noting the Hat hadn’t disappeared, Alex gratefully grabbed the cup of hot tea that had magically appeared before her. If it were important, someone would tell her. The only thing that moved faster than a Snitch was the speed of gossip at Hogwarts.

In any case, she was too tired to give it anything other than a passing thought. Directly after leaving Snape’s office the previous evening, Alex had set out to clear some of her homework load. If she were to have any hope of studying for Snape’s comprehensive exam while keeping up with everything else, Alex knew somehow she would have to better manage her time outside of classes.

_At least I’m done with detention with him. That’s time I can use to study._

Defense and Ancient Runes homework had taken until close to two in the morning to complete. The first subject had been completed easily enough, but Ancient Runes had her falling asleep over her parchment, nearly spilling her inkpot in the process. All she could remember clearly was it had to do with runes found at several _raths_ scattered in the UK that were associated with Arawn. Not her best work admittedly, but it was done.

_Still gotta do Transfigurations and Charms. Oh and that damn paper for Potions. Almost forgot about it. Ugh! Better start using my journal as homework planner instead of a catchall diary._

Not that she had used her leather-bound journal much since entering Hogwarts. Events had conspired to keep her mind otherwise occupied. There were general notes on each of the Houses from when she first arrived, the daily list of songs heard on the radio every morning when she remembered to use her Walkman and a funny, if unflattering, limerick about Professor Snape created Fred and George. She had overheard them singing it during one of their pranking forays.

“Hey Alex,” a voice from the Hufflepuff table behind her called out. It was Isolde. Seated next to the slim Ravenclaw Prefect, as usual, was Mara. Where it might have been odd for anyone to sit at a table other than that of their own House, the two girls sat together so often it had become a common sight to see the pair side by side at meals. Alex had heard it had been that way since Mara and Isolde were first years.

When the two waved her over, Alex grabbed her tea and complied. “What’s up?” she asked, stifling yet another yawn. “Hey Mara, did you finish the Runes paper?”

Isolde and Mara exchanged glances and laughed. “How can you be interested in homework at a time like this?” Mara asked in astonishment at Alex’s inquiry.

“Based on the dark circles under her eyes, my dear cynophile,” Isolde said to Mara, “I think Alex may have slept through the announcements as well as the Sorting.” Her eyes twinkled in amusement.

Alex glanced at the High Table once more just as McGonagall swept the Sorting Hat from where it had sat. Professors Sprout, Flitwick, and Snape followed close behind in the wake of the Deputy Headmistress. Even as Alex noted the four Head of Houses’ departure, her mind fell back to what Isolde had said.

“Wait, what? There was a Sorting? I thought that only happened with new students.”

A knowing look passed between the pair before they answered.

“Three to Hufflepuff,” Mara said, “and one to Slytherin.”

“All from your old school,” Isolde concluded, leaving Alex quietly stunned.

“Wha - who?” she finally managed once her mind had partially wrapped itself around the idea. Alex knew Dumbledore had mentioned something about welcoming other AMA students back when she had been Sorted, but she had forgotten since about it. A quick look around the Hall didn’t reveal any out of place faces, but then there were a lot of students present.

“There’s Caity Diaz; she’s a third-year. I think she left the Hall,” Mara noted as Alex shook her head slightly to indicate she didn’t recognize the name. “And then the twins, Dennis and Denise Whitmore. They are …” her voice trailed off as she searched. “Oh, they’re right there towards the head of the table. First years, and cute as a pair of pups, I tell you.”

The last name caught Alex’s attention the moment it left Mara’s lips. “Whitmore?” Alex partially stood up and craned her neck until she spotted them. The pale, nearly white blond heads bobbed as they listened intently to a pair of fellow Hufflepuffs.

“Do you know them?” Isolde asked.

“No, but based on their hair color and last name, I’d say I know their grandmother.” Curious stares met her statement, obliging her to elaborate. “Actually, everyone knows their grandmother – she’s the Dean of AMA. What you might call the Headmistress.”

That Dean Whitmore had sent her grandchildren all the way to England for their education was nothing short of surprising. The Canadian Lyceum was closer and had shared ties with AMA. Alex suspected many of her former fellow students had ended up there.

As much as she wanted to talk with the twins and ask whether they had spoken to their grandmother lately, Alex decided to leave them alone. There would be time later; right then, the two looked like they were well on their way to be overwhelmed based on how wide their eyes were.

“So who’s the new Slytherin?” Alex asked instead. “And how did Snape take getting an American in his House?”

Isolde snorted inelegantly. “Blank face as usual as he politely clapped.”

“I don’t think he even knows how to smile properly,” Mara confided, her curls bouncing cheerfully around her face as she nodded. “The closest thing he gets to one is that knowing smirk of his.”

“But to answer your first question,” Isolde said smoothly, “the new Slytherin is Alexander Stephens. He’s seated next to McCready.”

It was a name Alex recognized. “Seventh year, broom-jock. Of course, he’s talking to McCready.”

The dark skin and black curly hair clipped close to his scalp made a startling contrast to McCready’s paleness. Alex absently waved at Isolde and Mara as she got up and headed towards where Alexander, or Xander if she remembered correctly, was seated. She didn’t know him well since he was a year older than her and favored his broom over studies, but Alex recognized him immediately. How could she not when he had been one of their best Quodpot players and quite popular around campus? The closest thing the two of them had in common was having shared a study hall period for half a term.

Once he caught sight of her approaching, Xander’s dark eyes widened in recognition. “I know you, don’t I?” His voice was low and mellow as Xander got up to meet Alex at the end of the table and held out a hand. Alex found her own quickly engulfed in a firm shake.

Alex gave McCready a short nod as she introduced herself and then led Xander a few steps away from the table so their conversation would readily be overheard by anyone. “Third-period Potions last year. My class ended up sharing space in your study hall, you know, after the incident in the lab.”

That brought a smile to Xander’s face, revealing startling white teeth. “Yeah, that’s right. You guys blew up half the classroom.”

Nostalgia rose up as Alex recalled the events and she shook her head. “Someone mislabeled a vial in first-period Potions that Professor Jordan ended using. My class was just happened to be there for the fireworks.”

“That’s not what I heard, but okay, okay,” he replied good-naturedly. That humor and easygoingness, paired with his dark good looks, were some of the reasons he had been popular at AMA.

 _Yet neither trait is exactly what I’d expect in a Slytherin. Cunning and slippery, yes, but a sense of humor?_ Alex glanced back at the Slytherin table. She’d yet to encounter a snake whose idea of humorous didn’t involve pranking someone or making snide comments. _So why did the Hat put Xander with the Snakes, then? Ambition?_

“So tell me, how did you end up in Hogwarts? Born here or were your parents British?”

“My mother was,” Alex answered.

“I see. I was born in the British Virgin Islands. My dad actually attended Hogwarts back in the day. He told me a little about it when I was a kid before he died. His stories, though, they didn’t even come close.” Xander waved his hand around, indicating everything from the enchanted ceiling to the House banners. “This place looks like it’s straight from some movie set, you know?”

Alex nodded, recalling how she thought the castle looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. It was impressive, partially because of its size and the fact it had been around for ages.

“Anyways, so what’s the word around here?” Xander asked, hooking his thumbs to his front jeans pockets. “I got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore, and by that, I mean more than our geographic location, you know what I mean?”

The comment elicited a wry smile from Alex. It was all too easy to understand Xander’s desire to know how things worked around the foreign school.

“Word is you got Sorted with the Slytherins. I’m a Gryffindor, and around here Slytherins don’t hang out with Gryffindors. The fact is, they don’t hang out with anyone other than Slytherins.” Her nose wrinkled for a moment as if smelling something distasteful before she continued. “As it is, you’ll probably get an earful from your Housemates once I leave because of this little chat.” The clandestine looks the pair had been getting since Alex walked over hadn’t escaped her notice even if Xander hadn’t caught on.

Xander crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin towards the Hufflepuff table behind Alex. “Uh huh. Guess hanging out includes keeping an eye on the Whitmore twins. The Dean asked the rest of us to watch out for them.” His dark eyes cut back to Alex. “She asked you do the same, too.”

Alex couldn’t help but to glance at the Dean’s grandchildren, noted their small statures and innocent faces. The request didn’t surprise her. They looked altogether too young to even be in a wizarding school.

“Not a problem. Plus I have a friend or two that I can ask to help out; one of them is a Prefect. So I wouldn’t sweat it if I were you.” Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “But if you want to keep an eye on them yourself, I wouldn’t suggest doing it openly.”

“I hear you. Anything else I should know?”

“Yeah, there are three things they take seriously around here.” Alex held up one finger. “You already know about the Houses. The second are the classes.” She waggled two fingers aloft. “You want to bring your A-game to every class. The classes are harder than back home and some of the teachers can be, well, unforgiving. They don’t play around here, not with academics. Trust me.”

Xander asked what the third thing was he needed to watch out for besides academics and House-related problems.

“Quidditch,” Alex stated simply. “That’s the game they play around here. It’s House against House. From what I understand, it’s a ‘play hard or don’t play at all’ approach. I’d suggest talking to McCready if you want to be part of the Quidditch team.”

“Already ahead of you. Getting a spot on the team and doing well might have helped me break into the US League. Or better yet, maybe even the British League. Senior year is when the scouts really look at you.” The unmistakable gleam of ambition lit his eyes for a moment before dimming. “But your man there said I’m out of luck since try-outs already ended. Unless maybe…” his voice trailed off before he continued smoothly with a cocky grin, “unless you could persuade him otherwise.”

Snorting, Alex responded, “McCready is so not my man, but …” Her voice trailed off contemplatively. If Xander hadn’t been from AMA, the thought would never cross her mind. But he was, and seeing a familiar face, even one she hadn’t really known, had put Alex in a good mood. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Hey, McCready!”

When the Slytherin Prefect inquiringly looked her way, Alex tilted her head towards the doors leading out of the Great Hall. McCready frowned as he reluctantly rose from his seat and followed them out.

“Talon,” he said by way of greeting.

Rocking back on her heels, Alex muttered, “I’m probably going to regret this-”

“Which means I undoubtedly will,” McCready interrupted.

Alex shot him a withering glance that McCready chose to ignore. “You may want to take Xander out for a tour of Hogwarts. On your brooms.”

McCready laugh humorlessly. “I understand the two of you might have been friends back at your former school – maybe even closer than friends, seeing as you’re on a first-name basis and so quick to speak up for him - but like I told Stephens here, Quidditch tryouts already ended. Our first game is next Saturday.”

Not willing to let McCready get the wrong impression, Alex quickly rebuffed him. “You’re wrong. We weren’t friends. Hell, we barely knew each other back home.”

While Xander nodded in agreement, the tenseness of his body as he rose on his toes and then back again belied the bland expression on his face.

“Trust me, McCready. As the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, you want to take Xander out on a broom.” Alex took several steps backward from the pair, her hands extended palms up at her sides. “Besides, what do you have to lose? It’s not as if you’ve got plans for Hogsmeade today or anything,” she pointed out.

The reminder likely didn’t earn her any points with McCready, but as she turned to leave, the Slytherin Prefect was giving Xander an appraising look. It was enough for Alex. She had done her good deed for the day. If her Housemates learned she had gone out of her way to get the Slytherins a new Quidditch team member, one she knew for a fact was a talented broom-jock, she’d never hear the end of it.

 _Good luck to the both of us,_ Alex thought as she returned to the Gryffindor table. Faster than her toast could magically appear, Tess and Jeannie plopped down beside her.

“I see you met one of our newest additions,” Tess broached, a sparkle in her eyes that Alex hadn’t seen before. The older Gryffindor was practically bouncing in her seat.

“So?”

Jeannie lightly pushed Alex’s shoulder. “So spill, Alex.” Her voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. “Tess is dying to know all about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Off-Limits over there.”

Tess tried to shush her roommate to no avail while peering around to see if anyone had overheard the conversation.

“Well we can’t have her dying in the middle of the Great Hall,” Alex gamely played along. “Or else I’ll never get to eat breakfast.”

That bought Alex a moment to shove her buttered toast down her throat before succinctly providing the scant details she knew of Xander. Meanwhile, Tess feigned mild disinterest. The effort was ruined by her numerous glances towards the far table. _A Gryffindor eyeing a Slytherin? No, that would be unheard of._

“You sure there’s nothing we can get for you from Hogsmeade?” Tess offered. “I’m going to be visiting my aunt. She just finished setting up her dress robes shop.”

Jeannie rolled her eyes. “Someone wants to impress-”

“I do not!” Tess hissed. “I simply want look over my aunt’s new designs and fabrics. I know for a fact Gladrags can’t even come close.”

The mischievous grin didn’t leave Jeannie’s face as the two departed. Alex wished she could have joined her roommates. The quietness that descended with their parting lasted only long enough for Alex to walk out of the Great Hall before she found herself flanked by the resident Gryffindor pranksters.

_What the hell? Can’t I catch a moment to myself this morning!_

“A little pixie told us someone was a Grumpy-Gryffie yesterday about not being allowed to Hogsmeade,” Fred observed with a twinkle in his brown eyes.

“Not that I would blame her, Fred,” George said. “I’d have been out of sorts in her shoes.”

Alex glanced down at her petite feet and restrained a snicker at the thought of either of them trying to cram their large feet into her boots. “Well, you know what they say, guys,” Alex replied, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

“Too true.” George's head bobbed in agreement, red hair in disarray as if he hadn’t bothered to brush it yet.

Fred continued, “Which is why you should have listened to us back at the assembly.”

Simultaneously they both tsked at Alex and wagged fingers in her face.

“Is there a reason for this ambush or are you two just boredt since Alex had taken the fall for their pranks, it was only fair they shared their knowledge of a clandestine way for her to visit Hogsmeade.

“A secret passage?” A spark of curiosity stirred in Alex’s chest and immediately was fanned by the idea of exploring both the hidden path and the wizarding village. A handful of heartbeats later, the nascent dream withered under the weight of reality. “Shit! As much as I’d love to go, I can’t. I have to study.”

Dumbledore’s warning about further violations of policy whispered in the back of her mind. If that was not enough, she had little doubt that McGonagall would be keeping an eye on her the entire weekend. If it were a choice between having fun and passing that exam, which would not only put her into sixth-year Potion but also one step closer to the opportunity to become an Auror, she’d take the latter any day of the week – including Hogsmeade visitation days.

“Maybe another time,” she told the disappointed twins before heading back to her room. Getting turned down was obviously unexpected.

_Yeah, but so was waking up and finding four new students, all from AMA, had arrived and been Sorted this morning._

Alex loaded her Transfiguration textbook and homework supplies into her messenger bag and made her way past chattering students to the library. While everyone else might have been off to Hogsmeade, she was determined to complete as much homework as possible before her first remedial class.

_If Snape expects me not to be up to his challenge, he’s got another thing coming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Do I Have to Say the Words?” by Bryan Adams, So Far So Good  
>   
> Passage adapted from “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix” by JKRowling, chapter fifteen, page 309, US edition.  
>   
> Chapter title from “You’ve Got Another Thing Comin’”, Judas Priest, Screaming for Vengeance  
> 


	13. Just Another Day

_Pretty in pink, isn’t she?  
Pretty in pink, isn’t she?_

 

Alex found the lyrics wouldn’t stop playing in her mind since she had first heard the song that morning. Nor could she quite wipe away the mental image of Dolores Umbridge wearing that hideous prom dress featured at the end of the movie. Even as she glanced at the woman who was busy scribbling notes in the corner of the Potions classroom, Alex could readily imagine the newly appointed High Inquisitor decked out in the shapeless, pink polka-dot sack. The bow currently gracing the Inquisitor’s head would have matched it perfectly.

A grin threatened and Alex quickly focused on her Strengthening Solution. Snickering aloud in class would only earn Alex unwanted attention. Snape’s dark mood was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes and Alex didn’t desire to be the focus of it, not when she had been given a chance to test out of fifth-year Potions. As it was their class hadn’t even properly started before points had been docked from Gryffindor for a scuffle involving Potter, Weasley, and Longbottom. Alex hadn’t seen what had started it, but she’d put money on it having to do with the Slytherins.

_And maybe that decree the woman put out as soon as her Ministry-approved feet hit the school grounds. Bad enough we lost our Hogsmeade privileges, but to add this woman on top?_

It was clear to everyone that the pranks and flooding of the dungeons had played some role in the banning of groups, clubs, teams and all other organizations. Yet there had to be something more to it Alex felt. She didn’t need the _Hogwarts Herald_ or Granger to tell her that Umbridge was the Ministry’s way of sticking their nose into Hogwarts had been unnecessary, although the younger Prefect had done so at some length. As the Quidditch teams scrambled to get the necessary approvals from the High Inquisitor, the overall mood of the school had taken a nosedive.

An air of uncertainty had rolled in like an unexpected nor’easter and served to underscore the songs Alex had been hearing on her Walkman. It had started on Sunday with “Riders On The Storm” and “Tokyo Storm Warning”. If that hadn’t been a clear enough sign, Monday had brought her “Storms in Africa”, a tune she had last heard on her plane ride to England all those weeks ago when she fled AMA. Along with Enya’s song was “Another Brick in the Wall”. From there the songs had shifted to include those linked somehow to the word pink, including that day’s selection.

Her grey eyes flicked to her owl journal where she had made note of the songs. It surprised her somewhat how many songs there were out there that included that color.

 _Well, not all of them were related to the word pink,_ she noted as she grabbed a phial of salamander blood. The third song of the day had left Alex baffled. _That other song? Definitely discard material._ With a sigh, she firmly set the thought aside. There would be time enough to ponder her attempts at the alternative divinations method.

Alex lowered her head and continued meticulously brewing the assigned potion. That it was one she had learned last year didn’t stop her from devoting her attention to it. There was always the chance Professor Snape would include it on the exam, and she intended to make the most of the opportunity to practice making a Strengthening Solution.

When Umbridge left her seat and began questioning Snape, though, Alex found her attention divided. She didn’t have to lift her gaze to feel the cold radiating off of the Potions Master as indicated he had been applying for Tonks’ position for the last fourteen years. The distinct feeling that Snape would have thrown the woman out of his classroom if she had not been connected to the Ministry was palpable, at least to Alex. Denied that outlet, Snape’s temper turned to the nearest target the moment Umbridge started questioning Pansy Parker.

 _Well, Harry had practically been begging for it,_ she mused as class wrapped up and Alex turned in her flawless potion. _First with whatever happened in the hall, and then that toxic sludge he brewed._

Thoughts of Potter were swept away with the breeze as Alex found a quiet spot of the courtyard to quickly eat lunch. Settling her back against one of the stone archways, Alex mused at how different Halloween was here at Hogwarts. At AMA the fraternities and sororities had tried to outdo each other decorating all the buildings. Pumpkins patches sprouted magically into existence and orange balls of light had danced around the campus. The shrunken head collection that belonged to Professor Docker typically would be strung up in a different location each year. Bawdy jokes and increasingly outrageous challenges issued to students were chiefly their contributions, which resulted one year in the Quodpot team flying naked from one end of the campus to the other. By the end of the night the trees that graced the island would sport toilet paper in true Americana fashion, with the exception of the great elm at the northern end of the island. No one dared trespass there.

The coup de grace would come at midnight when Dean Whitmore would fly up to the roof of the Student Commons and summon the spirit of the Headless Horseman. A mist arose and trailed the spectral being as he rode around the campus and off the island towards the mainland. Muggle legend held that the Horseman had been Hessian artilleryman killed in the American Revolutionary War by a cannonball, but the oft-told tale had been only partially correct. The Horseman had been a wizard named Kurt Sommer, a local historian of German descent who had wanted to observe the battle for the purposes of a book he was writing. Hidden by magic, he had ridden above the soldiers upon a thestal when a stray cannonball ended his life. His body had been buried somewhere on Storm Isle, home to AMA. Rumor held that the reason he rode a circuit around the island, tossing balls of magic fire, was in a futile search for his head.

In contrast, the Hogwarts Hallowe’en Feast that would be held that evening in the Great Hall seemed lame to Alex. Tess had told Alex that a few years ago Dumbledore had hired a band of skeletons to play at the feast, but no one held hopes of anything as exciting this time. The Ministry’s presence in the form of Umbridge had put a damper on things.

With a sigh, Alex casually fingered her Potions book where it sat on top of her messenger bag. Once she had cleared the decks of homework, the remainder of her preceding weekend had been dedicated to painstakingly going through the textbook while cross-referencing her previous leather journal. The results were those potions and related material not covered in her fifth year at AMA. An upturned page corner marked each one. In her mind, those corners were like waving flags, proof of how the education she had received in the subject was not up to par. That a quarter of the textbook pages were denoted as such was striking.

Alex still didn’t know how to feel about it. _And if that’s just what I missed last year, what about the year before?_

“There goes that Umbridge woman,” a voice interrupted Alex’s reflection of her education. She looked over her shoulder to find Xander casually leaning against the side of the stone archway. Then she turned to watch Umbridge make her way across the courtyard and into the Great Hall.

“Is it me, or does she look like someone dropped her fat ass into a vat of Pepto-Bismol?”

Alex snorted, finding the description apt. “More like vomited Pepto on her.”

“I hear you on that,” Xander replied with a low chuckle as he pushed off the stone arch and took a step closer. “Look, I just wanted say thanks for, you know, putting in a good word with McCready and all. I made the team.”

Alex gave him a curt nod from her position seated on the ground. “Congratulations.” One last bite and she finished her sandwich.

“And I hope you Gryffindors get that approval for your team.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Seriously? Let me get this straight, you hope we don’t have to throw the match because of that dumb decree? Riiiight!”

“Can’t impress any talent scouts if there’s no match.” Then something caught his gaze in the courtyard. “Of course she might not see it that way, even if she is easy on the eyes,” he said appreciatively with a deliberate nod towards someone behind Alex.

Approaching like an oncoming storm was Angelina Johnson, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The braid she typically wore her hair in bounced to the brisk tempo of her relentless march towards Alex. In one hand she clutched a parchment that suspiciously looked like the latest edition of the _Hogwarts Herald_.

Trailing behind in Angelina’s wake was Katie Bell, the Chaser for their team. For all that they had several classes together and shared a dorm room, they didn’t interact much, particularly once it became obvious Alex didn’t share Katie’s passion for Quidditch.

_Damnitall, looks like someone overheard my conversation with McCready. So much for a quiet lunch. Might as well pack it up._

“Talon! I want a word with you.”

The soft footfalls of Xander’s retreat were nearly lost on Alex as she finished stowing everything away in her messenger back and stood to confront Angelina.

As was Angelina’s style, she didn’t waste time mincing words. “I read in the _Herald_ you got that hot-shot American on the Slytherin Quidditch team.” She held up the parchment she had carried over. On the front was a picture of Alex, McCready and Xander talking.

_Lovely, we made the front page. Now everyone in the school will think I put McCready up to this._

With a shake of her head at both the photograph and Johnson, Alex pointed out the obvious. “Don’t you think if McCready let him on the team, it was because Xander proved his worth and not because I made a suggestion?”

“You admit it?” Katie asked, looking first at Alex and then back to her captain.

Anger clouded over Angelina’s face as she threw down the _Herald_ and planted her fists on her hips. “You told McCready to put him on the team.”

“As if McCready would do anything I said.” Alex rolled her eyes. “But for the record, no, I didn’t tell him that. What I did was recommend he take Xander on a tour of Hogwarts via broomstick.” A bit of heat was entering Alex’s tone of voice as she tried to patiently correct the older girl. “You got a problem with that, Johnson?”

“Yes, I do. You’re supposed to be a Gryffindor,” Angelina explained in exasperation. “Don’t give them help.”

Any patience on Alex’s part evaporated the moment Angelina rudely jabbed a finger towards her face to emphasize her point. Without a second thought, Alex slapped the hand away to Angelina’s surprise.

“Newsflash, Johnson. You might be the captain of the Quidditch team, but I don’t follow your orders. I’ll do whatever the hell I want.”

Katie gasped at what she clearly thought was Alex’s audacity. In response, Alex shouldered her bag and left the two of them standing in the courtyard.

 

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

“Professor? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Alex approached Tonks as her classmates filed out of the room. More than a handful was yawning after having sat for so long doing nothing more than reading dry passages of text. The return to the mind-numbing approach to teaching had neatly coincided with the High Inquisitor’s arrival, something not lost on the student body. It was the last class of the day and while only a handful of hours had passed since lunch, already the rumors about her confrontation with Angelina Johnson were circulating. Alex had ignored the whispers yet she couldn’t help wondering if Katie was going to make things difficult in the dorm room they shared.

_With any luck, the Hallowe’en Feast will keep Katie occupied._

“Wotcher, Alex. Everything alright?” Tonks perched her hip on the edge of her desk, slipped and nearly fell. Only Alex’s quick reflexes saved her cousin from landing on her backside.

Brushing off Tonks’ words of thanks, Alex said, “Hey, I sort of need some help.”

A look of concern crossed Tonks’ face. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing, not really. It’s more like I need a favor.” She hesitated for a moment, not liking what she was about to ask, but having no other recourse. “I need to buy the textbooks for first through fourth year Potions.”

It was something that had been niggling at the back of Alex’s mind. There was only one way to be sure her previous Potions education hadn’t also been lacking prior to her last year at AMA. The study period she had spent in the library after lunch had confirmed that Hogwarts didn’t carry the textbooks. She could only assume the librarian felt it unnecessary since every student was required to purchase the books before the start of the term.

“Is there some reason you suddenly need to buy textbooks for classes you already passed?”

Taking a deep breath, Alex pulled out her current Potions textbook and set about explaining Snape’s proposition. After patiently hearing Alex out, Tonks pointed at the numerous upturned corners of her book.

“And your previous teacher didn’t cover any of that? What was he doing, gaffing off?”

“I don’t know,” Alex conceded.

“And you’re going to what, teach yourself all of this, while doing your other classwork?” Tonks pursed her lips and whistled. “A bit ambitious, yeah?”

“I’ve got it all planned out,” Alex assured the Auror-turned-professor. From her bag, Alex withdrew her owl journal, intent on showing the schedule she had come up with. Tonks’ gaze, unfortunately, fell on the first page Alex opened to, which was the wrong one. Too late Alex tried to flip the pages.

“Hot for … Teacher?” Tonks’ voice was incredulous as she stuck her hand out and pointed to the words. Her face would have been comedic had not worried concern been so clear in her eyes. “Alex? What-what is this?”

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

“It’s nothing, just a song.” Alex tried to wrest the journal away, but Tonks wouldn’t let her.

“A song? But who would-”

“A Muggle rock band. It’s not important, Tonks.”

Her cousin let go of the journal, but not the topic. “Yeah, so unimportant that you wrote it down?”

Alex massaged her right temple for a moment. Things were not going as she had planned. Then with a thud, she placed the book on Tonks’ desk and opened it back up to where she had noted that day’s songs.

“They’re songs, all three of them. Let me explain.” Alex briefly outlined Professor Docker’s theory of Alternative Divinations using music and how she had decided to try to use it. “So this is just a list of the first three songs I heard today.”

Tonks made a non-committal noise in response, but couldn’t quite hide the grin tugging at her lips.

“What? Did you actually think I had a thing for one of my teachers?”

“Well, maybe, yeah? Wouldn’t be the first time,” Tonks teasingly pointed out.

Alex snorted in disbelief. “Oh, and who would I secretly have the hots for? Professor Snape? Amhurst?” The idea was so ridiculous it made her groan.

“I was thinking Flitwick,” said Tonks with a giggle. “I hear he’s quite the dance partner.”

After a moment, she couldn’t resist and joined in. The two of them snickered for several moments. Alex couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much. That said, she was grateful no one walked in at that moment. The gossip vine had plenty of material to talk about without added material.

“A bit of advice. You may want to be careful with that, yeah? At least write down the band name alongside the songs. A classmate might get the wrong idea,” Tonks said once their absurdity had subsided. “Alright then. Show me this plan of yours.”

It was something Alex had come up with, starting with the list of unfamiliar potions and ingredients along with its corresponding textbook page and the date she hoped to complete it by. Alex was certain she could handle the workload in addition to regular assignments. The ace up her sleeve would be her _ars memoria_.

“Thing is, Snape said would be comprehensive – his word, not mine. So I really need to buy the other textbooks and review them. It’s not like I can borrow someone’s for a couple of weeks, not when they’d need it, too. Mrs. Pince says the library doesn’t have copies, either.”

Tonks held up one hand to forestall Alex. “And Tomes and Scrolls in Hogsmeade does, but your visitation rights were revoked.” At Alex’s nod, Tonks cocked her head and asked, “Anything else?”

Shuffling her feet, Alex admitted, “I don’t have the money. I mean, I have enough in my Gringott’s account. You made that deposit when I got here, remember? It’s just I don’t have anything here, and the bank doesn’t have a branch at Hogsmeade, either.”

Alex put her hands in her robe pockets and waited, letting the unspoken question of whether Tonks would be able to help her or not.

 _Otherwise, I’ll have to ask Sirius or maybe Remus, even if means having to wait while they get the books to me. If they have the money to spare._ Alex couldn’t remember either of them looking particularly flush with cash. Remus in particular always seemed dressed in well-worn robes.

Tonks thought quietly for a moment and then smiled. “Leave it to me.”

 

~ ~ * ~ ~

 

Turning in a slow circle in the middle of High Street, Alex took in the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. It was as different from the shopping district Alex had always gone to in Salem as the day was from night. The buildings here stood in the open and look as if they had been around for as long as Hogwarts. Snow had begun flying earlier that morning, and by late afternoon a pristine coat of white covered the thatched rooftops and crunched underfoot. Dancing on the breeze, flurries still descended from the heavy clouds above. Impulsively, Alex dropped her messenger bag beside her feet and opened her mouth to catch a few on her tongue. AMA didn’t often see snow due to the swirling winds offshore.

She still could hardly believe that Tonks had not only convinced McGonagall somehow to allow her to visit Tomes and Scrolls, but also arranged for a withdraw from Alex’s account to cover the expenses.

“Alright there, Alex?” Tonks asked. The former Auror had Apparated them from the gates of Hogwarts to the village. At Alex’s nod, she continued, “Remember what Professor McGonagall said. We have a little less than half an hour before she expect us back, yeah? Here you go.”

Alex should her messenger back before taking the pouch Tonks’ offered. From the weight and the soft clinking it emitted when she shifted it in her palm, there was far more money than Alex expected. A peek inside confirmed her suspicions.

“Whoa! All this for just four books? Are they that expensive?” She realized the textbooks were not the same as the ones they used back at AMA; a glance at the younger Gryffindors Potions books had told her that much. Still, Alex hadn’t counted on them costing more. She tucked the pouch away in her coat pocket.

Tonks shrugged. “Take it up with Dumbledore; he made the arrangements with Gringotts. Perhaps he felt you might need more for an upcoming event, like maybe for the Masquerade?” she suggested playfully, wrinkling her nose.

“You’re still holding it?”

It was a question that had been whispered in the halls since the Ministry sent Umbridge to evaluate how classes were conducted. The current opinion was mixed, seeing how the notices that had been posted everywhere had disappeared. There was even an article in the _Herald_ questioning it. Alex was relieved, though, when Tonks gave her a sharp nod to confirm otherwise.

“The staff was told Umbridge would be leaving next week. Still plenty of time to prepare for the ball.” Tonks rocked back on her heels and lifted her chin towards the shops. “So if were you, I’d wouldn’t fanny around the bookshop, yeah? Quick in, quick out, and you might have time to look at some dress robes or whatever you plan on wearing.”

Tonks left after telling Alex to meet her at the Hog’s Head Inn in twenty minutes and warning her to leg it. The last bit Alex didn’t quite understand, but took to mean she should move quickly. Luckily the Tomes and Scrolls shop was close by.

Slipping inside, Alex found herself breathing in the distinct scent of old books and paused for a moment. It was a heady combination with base notes that were reminiscent of vetiver with an infusion of vanilla and highlighted with a top note that was floral. Having spent many summer hours in AMA’s library, Alex knew the smell was from the breakdown of volatile organic compounds that commonly made up the paper, ink, and glue. Mingled with those scents was the leathery mustiness expected from a store overflowing with old tomes.

Conscious of her time limit, Alex quelled her impulse to wander the cramped aisles of bookshelves and simply asked the storekeeper where the textbooks on Potions were kept. She found them in a corner of the shop. After a moment of internal debating, she selected the used editions and stacked each on a nearby small table.

_No need to spend the extra money on new versions of the books. I can make do with these._

Then Alex turned back to the bookshelf and found she couldn’t resist locating “ _Advanced Potion Making_ ”, the required text for sixth and seventh-year Potions. She ran a fingertip over the spine, lingering over the subtle depressions of the letters that made up the title. There was nothing stopping her from purchasing it right then and there. Yet she hesitated before firmly stepping away.

_I’ll come back for you once I pass that test and earn my way into that class._

“That all, dearie, just th’ school books?” asked the white-haired proprietress when Alex approached the front desk. “Sure ye widnae like a bit o’ light reading? I hae several copies o’ _‘A Rúnsearc’_. Lasses yer age hae a liking for it.”

Alex glanced at the book the shopkeeper indicated where it sat on the counter. The slim volume bore the subtitle, _‘Beloveds’_ , and looked quite similar to the romance book she had seen Isolde reading the other day. Politely declining, Alex paid for her textbooks and secured them in her messenger bag. Then she departed with a grin, having caught a glimpse of the shopkeeper picking up and opening the romance book the moment she thought Alex wasn’t looking.

_Guess it appeals to ‘lasses’ of all ages except me._

With only a short amount of time left before she had to meet Tonks, Alex scanned High Street for the Dressy Owl and found it at the opposite end of the village. By the time she reached the burgundy door of the shop, the snow had picked up again and there weren’t many people on the streets.

The middle-aged woman who greeted her held such a resemblance to Alex’s roommate that there was no mistaking the two were related. Josephine Mellor had the same high cheekbones and generous mouth as her niece. She kept her tightly curled hair cropped close to her scalp. Altogether Mrs. Mellor was a strikingly beautiful woman with long delicate fingers that seemed well suited for her craft. Once she learned who Alex was, the seamstress treated Alex as if she were family.

“Now let me have a good look at you, darling. Turn around, turn around, yes.” A tape measure uncoiled itself at Mrs. Mellor’s gesture. It danced around to the soft French song playing from the radio on the counter, first flittering at Alex’s waistline, then her bust, and hips. Finally, the tape extended vertically as if it were a dance partner to take in Alex’s height. Then it coiled back up like a snake at rest.

“You’re such a petite thing,” the seamstress murmured, absentmindedly playing with the long strand of pearls that adorned her neck. “Now, are you looking for dress robes for the Beautillion Ball or is this for the Midnight Masquerade my niece mentioned? No, wait, you’re too young for the Beautillion. Tess said you were a sixth year, yes?”

Alex had no idea what the Beautillion Ball was. She made a mental note to ask Tess what it was about and then confirmed to Mrs. Mellor that she wasn’t a seventh year yet.

“Ah! The Masquerade it is. So exciting! I haven’t been to a proper masquerade since my poor François passed away ages ago. How are you going to change your appearance? Will it involve perhaps altering your hair color or skin tone?”

Like the rest of the sixth year students, Alex would be wearing a demi-mask that would partially cover her face. It occurred to Alex that other than changing the color of her hair and eyes, she hadn’t given her disguise much thought.

“Does it matter?” she inquired.

Thin eyebrows rose. “Of course, darling.” She picked up a heavy bolt of fabric. “With your natural coloration, I would suggest something in a jewel tone. A deep purple, perhaps, or this cobalt blue. Yes, look how it sets off your hair.”

Purple wasn’t her favorite color and Alex couldn’t see herself buying a formal dress robe that she had no intention of wearing again. She bit her lower lip indecisively. “What about if I had red hair?” It was something Alex knew she could readily handle, having done the same at the airport when she fled America.

“The blue would still work.” The seamstress picked up a different fabric, one that was a heavy brocade. “Ah, but green would be best, particular if you alter your eyes to a similar shade.”

Financial sensibility won out in the end. “Let’s stick with the blue.”

“Leave it to me, then. You won’t be disappointed.” Mrs. Mellor paused a moment. “And if you don’t mind a little suggestion, research a voice-swapping charm. Your accent is quite distinguishable, darling.”

It took nearly ever last knut left in her pouch, but Alex left content. With one hand she patted her messenger bag as she headed down the street to meet up with Tonks. Not only had she obtained the lower class Potions books she felt was necessary to fully prepare for Snape’s exam, but her outfit for the Masquerade was taken care of.

_And all within the time limit ol’ Sourpuss put on me. Now if only I can find a voice-swapping charm …_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from ‘Just Another Day’ by Oingo Boingo, Dead Man’s Party
> 
> Opening lyrics from Pretty in Pink by Psychedelic Furs, Talk Talk Talk
> 
> Riders on the Storm by The Doors, L.A. Woman  
> Tokyo Storm Warning by Elvis Costello & The Attractions, Blood & Chocolate  
> Storms in Africa by Enya, Watermark  
> Hot for Teacher by Van Halen, 1984


	14. I Won't Back Down

The frost crunched underfoot as Alex glanced over her shoulder at the Quidditch pitch.

_WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,  
WEASLEY IS OUR KING …*_

  
The Slytherins’s song praising Ron Weasley’s lack of skills on a broom could be clearly heard even this far away. She had a sinking feeling this wouldn’t be the last time she’d hear it if the Gryffindors didn’t manage to win.

_Merlin, for sanity’s sake, please let them win._

Alex had spent the last hour at Jeannie and Tess’ insistence supporting their House in their first match of the year. Both had claimed it was necessary and in light of the fact that Katie Bell had managed to convince McGonagall to allow her to switch dorm rooms, Alex had conceded, even if it meant freezing up in the stands. She didn’t know what was more surprising: that Katie was disgusted enough at Alex suggestion to McCready regarding Xander to press for a different room, or that McGonagall had approved of it.

_Of course, Xander totally ignoring Tess in favor of Angelina ranks right up there on the ‘what the heck’ list. Angelina wouldn't give any Slytherin the time of day._

An unexpected sneeze drove both the thoughts of her roommates out of her mind and the messenger bag she had carried off her shoulder. _Damnitall, I hope I’m not catching a cold, she groused as she readjusted her bag._

October had ended with a lovely dusting of snow that tricked Alex into thinking winters in Scotland wouldn’t be all that bad. November had quickly remedied that misconception. Shoving hands that were chilled despite gloves deeper into her coat pockets, Alex made her way back to the castle and directly into the library. Not that inside the school with its icy drafts was much better. It had shocked Alex that students had to resort to wearing thick, dragon skin gloves between classes even while indoors. She was lucky that Jeannie had an extra pair she could borrow.

_AMA never got so cold that I needed to wear gloves in the halls. I wonder why don’t they cast a permanent warming charm on the place?_ Then Alex recalled Remus telling her there were wards around the school and shrugged as she removed her gloves. _Maybe that’s why._

Settling into a corner of the deserted library, Alex pulled out her series of leather-bound journals, allowing her fingers play over the etched covers. In them were stored notes from her years at AMA. There were diary-like entries, occasionally accompanied by a moving picture held in place with Spello-tape. Some pages contained spells or charms she had learned, including one to change the color of her hair. Most of the pages pertained to potions. There were textbook standard tonics and alternate recipes for elixirs. A number of these were Cherokee. Others she had re-done on her own, a fusion of Native American and wizarding world methods. Painstakingly detailed drawings of ingredients intermittently graced the pages. Scattered amongst them were notations on the different parts of the ingredients used, the manner of the usage and their varying effects followed these. Potential interactions with other ingredients were written in red.

The contents of the fifth journal marked a subtle change. The entries started out as thorough as those in the preceding years and then gradually those relating to potions became less detailed. The final two elixirs were merely noted by name only, having been successfully transferred into her nascent _ars memoria_. Not only could she recall each ingredient, but Alex could also relive each step she had taken in the process of brewing it.

Now she planned to take advantage of the long hours she had spent reading ‘ _The Eldrich Method Loci_ ’ at the start of her fifth year at AMA. It offered her the greatest chance of success. What she first needed to do was match up the potions she had learned at AMA by year with the corresponding Hogwarts textbook.

Over the next few hours, Alex realized that Snape had been right. AMA’s curriculum had not been up to Hogwarts’ standards. The hard proof lay before her as much as she might have wished otherwise. Some potions taught in AMA during her third year were covered by Hogwarts students in the second year. The same was evident with the strength serum she had been tasked to brew on her first day along with the rest of the fifth year class. She could only guess it might have been covered by sixth-years at AMA.

_We never even talked about Amortentia last year, but according to this textbook, it’s standard for fifth-years here. Let’s not even talk about this Aging Potion. Damnitall!_

Alex had realized from the start that she was behind her peers in Transfiguration. It was something she faced every time she walked into McGonagall’s classroom and struggled to keep up. Admitting that Snape’s assessment of her skills had been correct, though, was a bitter pill to swallow. She truly did not rate to be in his sixth-year class, not with the gaps in her education.

_Am I the only AMA student with this problem, or was it a school-wide problem? And if it was, who’s responsible?_

The thought bothered her long after she left the library and retired to the Gryffindor common room where a celebration was well under way over their victory. That Harry, Fred, and George had lost a ton of points while earning a load of detention for a fight after the Quidditch match didn’t seem to dampen the Gryffindors’ spirits. Alex decided as she left her Housemates to their post-match antics that what mattered most was dedicating her time to rectifying the problem of her spotty education instead of pursuing who was to blame.

As the cold days of November gave way to an icy December, the demanding undertaking didn’t discourage Alex. The long hours she dedicated to painstakingly assigning endless lists of ingredients, their interactions, and the associated potions to places within her _ars memoria_ made Alex more all the more determined, if anything. She wouldn’t back down. Early mornings and afternoons directly after classes were dedicated to regular studies; late evenings were exclusively for brewing Potions in an unused classroom and going over anything she could think might possibly be on the test.

In her spare moments between classes, homework, and study, Alex tried to think of how she was going to pull off the test and the Masquerade. They were scheduled back to back on consecutive days. It lingered in the back of her mind while she memorized remedies and methods of preparation from her books.

~ ~ * ~ ~

  
The Transfiguration book that lay opened on her desk held as much fascination for Alex as watching the modest patch of lichen growing just outside the class window.

 _Actually, that lichen is more interesting. It’s commonly used in …_ Alex’s thoughts trailed away as she briefly closed her eyes and entered her _ars memoria_ , calling up the memory tree that held the pertinent information. _Maiden’s Tears, Aging Potions and a tonic to remove warts. Hey now, there’s an idea. I could use an Aging Potion …_

A sharp jab of Jeannie’s elbow to her ribs shifted Alex’s drifting attention. Catching Professor McGonagall looking her way out of the corner of her eye, Alex turned the page of the book before her and pretended to read along with the rest of the class. As soon as McGonagall dismissed them for the day and Alex entered the outside corridor, she found Jeannie hot on her heels.

“You know, Alex, if you’re trying to fail Transfigurations -” her roommate began before Alex cut in.

“You know I’m not.”

Jeannie rolled her eyes. “Then perhaps you should attempt to look interested in the lesson. At least you didn’t get in trouble with Professor McGonagall this time. In fact, I can’t remember the last time you lost us any points,” she needled Alex good-naturedly.

“You know, I can’t either.” Nor could Alex recall the last time she had been the target of one of Snape’s snide remarks regarding her work or technique. They had gotten along curiously well, at least in comparison to her first week at Hogwarts. There had been no confrontations or displays on her part of what he termed insolence. As for the Potions Master, he paid no specific attention to her in class.

The same couldn’t be said for McGonagall. It was a rare day when Alex made it through Transfigurations without a dry remark, whether verbal or written across her homework; some days she was blessed with both.

“What was so engrossing outside the window anyways?” The answer left Jeannie momentarily speechless. “Lichen - as in fungus? Dare I even ask why?”

“Don’t look at me that way! It’s used in Aging Potions. I was thinking -” Alex lowered her voice and leaned close to her roommate so no one would overhear, “- I could use it during for the Masquerade.” If she aged herself about ten years and combined the effect with red hair, Alex felt sure no one would immediately recognize her.

“Brilliant!” Jeannie exclaimed, and then paused to look left and right before pulling out a slim book on Charms. “Speaking of which, I found it!”

‘It’ was the voice-swapping spell Mrs. Mellor had mentioned weeks ago. Jeannie had readily agreed to the idea when Alex proposed it, but the spell had been proven elusive to locate. Now that they had it, though, a weight lifted off Alex’s shoulders. Exchanging her American accent with Jeannie’s native British inflection was nearly as important as altering her general appearance. Her prior attempts to mimic a British accent had left Jeannie in tears.

“Let’s go try it out!” Alex suggested.

Half an hour later, Alex was still giggling. Hearing Jeannie’s accent come out of her mouth was surreal. “Bullocks, Miss Watson!” she exclaimed, trying out the phrase she’d heard tossed about the common room.

_If Mom had raised me in England, I would have sounded like this._ The thought reminded her of her loss.

“It’s bollocks, not bullocks. We’ll have to work on those colloquialisms if this is to work.”

Grateful for the distraction, Alex snorted. “You mean slang.”

Jeannie stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry, which Alex properly ignored.

“Hey, about that idea I had for the Aging Potion,” Alex began. “You wouldn’t happen to have any crushed ammolite?” It was the only ingredient Alex didn’t have on hand. She doubted McGonagall would allow her a second visit to Hogsmeade to pick some up. “I’m all out.” 

Jeannie shook her head. “I tossed my student kit over the summer when I decided not to continue taking Potions. But didn’t you make that potion a few weeks ago?”

Alex actually had as practice for the exam, but as she explained to Jeannie, she had disposed of the concoction afterward. Too late it occurred to Alex that it might have been useful to keep the batch.

“The apothecary in Hogsmeade might do a mail order, so long as it doesn’t include lacewing flies. I head someone bought their entire stock back in October and they haven’t refilled it yet.”

It was a rumor Alex had heard as well. Many students thought the timing was a bit suspicious. Polyjuice potion couldn’t be made without that particular ingredient, and even if a student managed to get their hands on some, lacewings flies had to be properly stewed for three weeks first. From Alex had heard, Professor Snape had gone as far as warding his personal stock of ingredients.

“Have you tried Fred and George?” Jeannie went on to relay how the two older Weasleys had tried to outwit the Age Line during the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Alex laid out the other necessary ingredients for the potion on her bed. Critically eyeing her supply of dried frost rose petals, Alex decided there was enough for just one more batch of the Aging potion.

“Sounds like I better hit up the boys.”

“Before you do that, did you happen to find that outfit you mentioned?” Jeannie asked.

The outfit in question was the other part of their plan for the Masquerade. Professor Tonks hadn’t specified dress robes had to be worn, so while Alex had received her formal attire from the Dressy Owl weeks ago, Jeannie opted to wear some of Alex’s Muggle clothes. From her trunk, Alex withdrew a black leather mini-skirt, and a Police concert t-shirt. Mismatched faux jewelry, boots, dark makeup and wild hair color would complete the ensemble when the time came.

“The Police?” Jeannie questioned as she held the shirt to her chest.

“Yeah, they’re British - good band, at least they were before they broke up. It’s either that shirt or -” Alex paused to shuffle things around her trunk and then found her other concert t-shirt, “- this Def Leppard one.” She tossed the cut-off Union Jack to Jeannie.

“This one!”

As Jeannie set about trying on the clothes, Alex couldn’t resist peeking at her own dress robe. It was still in its package, hidden at the bottom of her trunk. The cobalt blue material was pleasing to the touch when she unwrapped it. Alex held the dress robe up in front of her and peered into the mirror that stood in the corner. The muted silver trim at the neck and wrists matched the insets.

“Mrs. Mellor knew what she was talking about,” Alex murmured appreciatively.

“Going for a Ravenclaw look?” Jeannie teased, as she modeled the t-shirt and mini-skirt. Being taller resulted in the outfit revealing more of Jeannie’s midriff and long legs than when Alex wore the same ensemble. It would be a daring look, to say the least.

“I didn’t pick ‘Claw colors on purpose, but if it helps to trick the professors…” her words trailed off as she contemplated putting the dress on. Then with a firm sigh, Alex returned the formal wear to her trunk. The last thing she wanted was for someone to walk in and see her dress robes. Even Tess didn’t know the specifics of their plans. Their older roommate had been keeping to herself lately, and Alex remarked to Jeannie as much.

“After what that Xander told me about not noticing Tess and the comment about Angelina the ‘angel of Gryffindor’?” Jeannie snorted in disdain. It had been her idea to approach the Slytherin just last week and feel out whether he realized Tess fancied him. “The wanker’s lucky she didn’t hex him.”

Pausing to strip off her outfit and store it neatly away in her trunk, Jeannie continued, “But before I forget, Tess and I were chatting this morning while you were off studying your lichen or whatever. She proposed a friendly wager between the three of us, provided you’re up to it.”

“Let me guess, which of us can last longer without a professor figuring out who we really are?” It was a common enough bet between students as the Masquerade had drawn near.

Jeannie's voice was muffled as she pulled on a sweater. “No, something much more fun.” She waited until she was finished dressing before revealing Tess’ idea. “Which of us can dance with the most professors while keeping our identity hidden.”

The idea was so outrageous that Alex was forced to choke back laughter. “Dance? With our teachers?”

Fooling the professors while answering the limited questions they were allowed to ask would be challenging enough. To dance with them would be taking things up to a whole other level.

“Are you up for it then? Tess was thinking both losers pay one galleon for each professor the winner successfully hoodwinks.”

“With us having the advantage of wearing a demi-mask while Tess has to go bare faced? Of course, I’m in. It’ll be like taking sugar mice from a baby,” she remarked, her voice a tad bit overconfident even to her ears. If she lost, Alex would have to find a way to withdraw funds from her Gringotts account over the holidays to cover the wager.

_First things first, though – I gotta get that crushed ammolite._

After reversing their voice-swapping charm, Alex went to look for the twins. She found them in their dorm room. When Alex entered, they immediately threw a spare robe on top of several items that lay atop a bed. Had they been any other students, Alex would have thought it had to do with Masquerade preparations. With Fred and George, though, it was just as likely to be related to their products.

_Or it could also be dirty underwear – certainly smells like a sweaty locker room in here. There were those pesky rumors about the House Elves avoiding their room after the exploding candy incident._

“Alex! How unexpected!” Fred shifted awkwardly in front of the bed.

George clasped his hand together. “Yes, is there something we can help you with?”

“Crushed ammolite.” As succinctly as possible, Alex outlined her problem, allowing the twins to assume it was for her Potions test. George held the glass phial of sparkling powder that she needed in up to the light and then tossed it to her.

“What’s the catch?” she asked when she noticed them exchanging glances.

“Catch?” Fred dramatically placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Alex.”

“Us,” George corrected his twin.

“Of course. You wound us,” Fred amended.

That elicited a snort from Alex. “Just spill it, boys.”

Fred rocked back on his heels as he presented their dilemma. “How would one administer a euphoria elixir without the target’s knowledge? Preferably without the telltale nose-tweaking?”

“It’s a new product line, aimed at enlivening those boring meetings in the workplace,” George explained when Alex gave them a questioning look.

Fred interrupted, “Or weddings. Maybe even funerals.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

As appalling as it initially sounded, it was right up their alley to create a product for pranking a solemn occasional like a funeral. The phrase ‘putting the fun back in funerals’ nearly popped out of her mouth, but George interrupted her before she could speak.

“The trick is,” he said as Alex fought to suppress a grin, “it can’t be part of a drink, meal or any sort of food.”

“Alright then, so can the elixir be applied to a plate or goblet?” It seemed the obvious answer.

They shook their head. “We thought of that already,” they assured her simultaneously.

“What about the ice served in the drinks? No? Damn, that would have been a good way to go – putting the elixir in the ice.”

George made an appreciative noise at the discarded idea as Alex tapped a slender finger against her lips and silently contemplated the challenge. The level of complexity only made it the more intriguing.

_What about if it were absorbed through the skin? No, you’d have to either dump a bucket of it on them or apply it on their clothes. Or maybe …_

“I don’t know if it would work,” she said, “but have you tried dispersing it in the air? You know, like those fancy perfume bottles with the little pump?” She brought her fingers together as if squeezing an invisible bulb. “I don’t know how practical it might be, but if the elixir gets in the air and the person inhales enough of it that might work. I’d up the dose, though, just to make sure.”

Identical grins lit their faces as Fred and George suddenly stepped close to Alex, trapping her in a hug given from her front and backside. Alex was dumbfounded just enough by their exuberant display of gratitude that she stood motionless.

The moment was broken by a polite cough from the doorway. Still trapped firmly between Fred and George, Alex glimpsed their roommate, Lee Jordan. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he stood just outside the door.

“Should I hang a tie on the doorknob and come back later?”

_Hang a tie on the – oh shit!_

Alex shoved her way out of the Weasleys’ embrace, understanding immediately what the tie signal meant. At AMA students had used scarves or clothes hangers to indicate a couple’s desire for privacy. Visions of what the gossip in the halls would say about the embrace floated in her head and Alex felt her cheeks flush.

“No need, Lee. They were just thanking me for helping out with a product. Nothing else.”

“If you say so.”

As she stepped past the amused Quidditch commentator, Alex turned back to the twins. “Oh, and guys - peppermint. Add some while brewing and it should fix the nose thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter title from ‘I Won’t Back Down’ by Tom Petty, Full Moon Fever_
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> _The lyrics of the Slytherin chant come from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by JKRowling, chapter nineteen, page 408, U.S. hardback edition._
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> **I don't ask this often, but if you've enjoyed reading this story, then _please please please_ take a moment and leave a review. You'd be amazed at how uplifting even a simple review can be for me, not to mention my muse.**


	15. Dancing in the Dark

Looking in the mirror, Alex groaned. How had she gone from looking forward to the ball to this?

It was the Ageing Potion. She had not had a moment to test it before the ball. Her spare time had been taken up between studying Potions and the slew of tests the staff had seen fit to spring upon the students as some sort of pre-Christmas sadistic ritual. As a result, she had been forced to trust her plan and hope for the best. The best, unfortunately, had not included her dress robes no longer fitting after having aged herself ten years.

When the dorm room door swung open, Alex jumped onto her bed and pulled the curtains closed.

“Alex? Are you ready to do the voice charm?”

Just her luck, it was Jeannie.

“I’m not going,” she called out through the bed curtains.

Not going would mean earning a failing grade, but so would tromping down to the Masquerade without a suitable outfit. Her limited wardrobe, all that she had brought with her in her escape from AMA, meant everyone was familiar with her Muggle attire. The new dress robes had been a key part of her disguise because they were so unlike anything she owned. It was far too late to come up with an alternate plan.

Alex listened to Jeannie walk over to the bed. When her roommate tried to open the curtain, Alex held them shut.

“What’s wrong? Are you playing around with potions again?”

“Yes – no! Oh, just forget it!”

“Alex, what’s the problem? We have to get ready! The Masquerade starts in about ninety minutes.”

The curtains behind Alex suddenly were thrown open. Jeannie took one look at Alex, who had turned halfway, and her hand flew to her mouth.

“Rowena’s tits!” Jeannie’s eyes widen in astonishment. “Look at your boobs! They’re huge!”

Alex self-consciously tried to cover her larger than normal breasts. Her face burned with embarrassment.

“You didn’t use an Engorgement Charm, did you?”

Looking indignant, Alex replied, “Of course not, you airhead! You know the risks involved when engorging body parts, especially reproductive parts. I’m not crazy, you know!”

Numerous studies on engorgement had concluded the probability of permanent damage to anything related to reproductive parts was high and far outweighed any temporary advantage. Despite the warnings, there were inevitably cases every year of enhancements gone wrong.

“Then-”

“I took an Ageing Potion,” Alex cut her off. “I thought I’d age myself ten years or so as part of my disguise. But then …” Alex held her hands up at chest level and shook her head. “Jeannie, I can’t fit into my dress robes! What am I going to do?” she wailed.

Jeannie just smiled and grabbed Alex’s hands, leading her off of her bed and into the light. The shirt Alex had on was strained across the chest; two of the buttons wouldn’t close at all. Her roommate walked around Alex, surveying the full effects.

“You’re taller, did you know that? Not much, just a bit. Look at those curves and that tiny waist. And your hair, Merlin! It’s down past your arse! Oh, Alex, you look lovely!”

Alex stared at her roommate in disbelief. This was a disaster and Jeannie was gushing.

“It just means you’re a late bloomer,” Jeannie reassured her.

“And what’s wrong with the way I looked before?”

“Nothing, if you prefer resembling a broomstick. But this? Alex, the boys are not going to know what hit them, especially Fred and George.” The last part she said in a singsong voice.

“I wish everyone would shut up about those two. Nothing happened between us,” Alex grumbled under her breath. She had suffered enough ribbing about the infamous hug.

Jeannie ignored Alex’s protestations while she positioned her in front of the mirror. Standing just behind Alex, Jeannie gathered her black hair and with a twist, held it place in a mock up-do that complimented her cheekbones. Alex’s face had thinned out a little with aging, subtlety altering its shape. “The idea of aging yourself was brilliant!”

Alex pushed away Jeannie’s hand and her hair cascaded down. “Yeah, but what am I going to wear?”

“You could go as the Sorceress Godiva,” Jeannie suggested with a wicked grin just as the door to the room opened behind them, “and appear _au natural_. The boys would love that.”

Alex suspiciously asked, “What do you mean, _au natural_?”

“She means nak-” Tess started to answer as she pushed to close the door. “Merlin’s beard, your tits!”

The sound of the door slamming shut was loud in the silence that followed Tess’ exclamation. Jeannie quickly filled Tess in on Alex’s dilemma as the older Gryffindor circled Alex. Neither girl made mention of the tartan robes Tess was wearing that seem better suited for an older witch.

“And you didn’t think to try the potion when you ordered your dress?” Tess shook her head as Alex explained the idea had come to her after the dress had arrived. “Alright, here’s what we do. I’ll get your measurements, and then I’ll take your dress to my Aunt Josephine. Maybe if she can let a seam out or add a new panel of fabric somewhere.”

Standing still so Tess could expertly measure her with a spare length of ribbon, Alex said, “But Masquerade is in less than two hours.”

Tess hushed her. “Just trust me.” She tucked the ribbon with its marking of her new measurements into the package with the dress robes. “I’ll be back, and then you’ll owe me a favor.”

Instead of heading out the door and to the owlry, as Alex expected, Tess withdrew a flask and her broomstick from the trunk at the end of her bed and approached the window.

“You’re not flying to Hogsmeade, are you? What if you get caught?”

“Trust me,” Tess repeated. “No one is going to give me a second glance, not after this.” With that, she uncapped the flask and took a swig of the contents. Judging by the expression that swiftly crossed Tess’ face, the potion tasted horrible. It was only when a look of pain flashed over her features as her skin rippled and changed into a pale shade of white did Alex realize what was going on. The transformation into their Head of House was swift.

“Professor McGonagall?” Alex sputtered. “You Polyjuiced yourself into ol’ Sourpuss? No wonder you picked those robes. But I thought it was impossible to get a hold of lacewing flies.”

“Only if the apothecary shop owner isn’t old friends with your aunt and doesn’t owe her a favor.” An exchange of goods and services had seen to the prolonged back order status of lacewing flies.

Jeannie, though, applauded. “That’s brilliant, Tess! And no one will think to stop a professor.”

Alex had to hand it to their roommate, who sketched a short bow before flying out their dorm room window. Transforming into a professor was as bold as they came.

_Now if only Tess can make it back in time._

~ ~ * ~ ~

“I don’t care what Jeannie said about décolletage, I look like I’m trying to smuggle in two melons,” Alex muttered, adjusting the neckline of the new dress robe as she walked down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room.

The draped fabric sat lower on her chest than her original gown and was elegantly gathered at each shoulder and pinned with silver brooches. The heavy material was sumptuous with its black and silver trimming. When she had slipped into it, the fabric had flowed silkily over Alex’s shoulders with a soft susurration.

The extravagant dress robes that Tess had returned with was the only one Mrs. Mellor had on hand close to her size; a minor alteration to lift the hem was all that had been needed. Tess explained how the socialite who ordered the dress had unexpectedly refused to purchase it once she had learned Mrs. Mellor’s deceased husband, François, had been Muggle-born. Alex, though, was Muggle-raised and that fact suited Mrs. Mellor’s anger enough to make a Christmas gift of the dress robes.

_I should be thanking that stuck up witch for her idiocy and Jeannie for her handiwork with my hair. I don’t think even mom would recognize me now, especially without my bracelet or her necklace._ Both items were too readily identifiable for Alex to wear them. She fiddled with a black mask before tying it in place. All sixth students were allowed to wear a demi-mask until midnight, at which point they would have to reveal their faces if a teacher hadn’t yet determined their identity.

None of Alex’s fellow Gryffindors batted an eye as Alex entered alone. Tess had opted to fly to the owlry and approach the Great Hall from that direction; Jeannie had descended a few minutes ahead of Alex. They feared it would be easier for their Housemates to determine their identity if the three of them arrived in the common room together. While only a teacher could formally challenge a student’s identity, and then only three times, an overheard comment from another lion could give away enough for a professor to make an educated guess. The medallion would reveal itself upon a successful challenge, along with the student’s name and House. Then whatever enchantments the student had woven would unravel. They would fail the test Tonks had set them to and be asked to depart the Masquerade.

Alex idly wondered as she stepped past Angelina Johnson if the revealing would affect potion-based changes like her aging. Most of her fellow lions had their disguises in place; others were putting on the finishing touches. Fred and George were curiously absent, but Alex readily spotted Jeannie walking past an oddly blonde Hermione Granger. Her mask was pushed up past her forehead.

“Stay still, Ron,” Granger said, trying to adjust the collar of the suit he wore. The way it hung on his frame made it obvious the clothing had originally belonged to someone with a larger build. “Oh, Alex!” she exclaimed, catching a glance of Jeannie, “your attire is quite … unusual.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron remarked.

Jeannie halted. Gone was the familiar reddish-brown bob. It was replaced by spiky black hair with garish purple streaks. It took a keen eye to make out the medallion hidden among the chains around her wrist or the wand stuck in the side of her left boot.

She shot Hermione a look of disgust. “Whatever Miss Know-It-All.” She turned away and stuffed a piece of bubblegum in her mouth.

What cheek! Alex internally tried out the phrase that Sirius once applied to her, watching her roommate stalk out of the common room. If fellow Gryffindors who had lived with Jeannie for six years couldn’t tell it was her, no one else stood a chance. The three of them would pass Tonks’ challenge by the end of the night.

Following Jeannine at a discreet distance, Alex caught glimpses of her own reflection in the numerous windowpanes as she descended the main staircase. Her long hair, now a flaming red, was swept up with a few loose strands artistically framing her face. A subtle application of eye shadow highlighted her now startlingly green eyes visible through her demi-mask. With each step down the staircase, the chain belt that hung low on her hips swung with a pleasant jingling sound. Attached to it was her medallion, like the one each student had been given; hers was hidden in plain sight beneath a Disillusionment charm.

Before she even reached the bottom step, Alex could hear music. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick waved in arriving students. Based on the familiar tartan robes McGonagall wore, she figured it could only be Tess in disguise.

It was only then, watching the Charms professor chatting amiably with Tess that Alex realized the advantage her roommate’s disguise gave her. It would be far easier for Tess as McGonagall to persuade another staff member to become her dance partner than it would for a student to do the same.

_That little …_ Alex searched for a proper British term, something Jeannie might say … _minx!_

In the next moment, thoughts of Tess’ subterfuge fled Alex mind as she entered the Great Hall. Gone were the long tables and House banners. Just inside were elaborate ice sculptures that flanked the doorway, one in the form of a lion and the other a badger. With each exhalation, the sculptures emitted a heavy golden-tinged vapor that pooled across the floor and scented the air with a cool, minty aroma. The enchanted ceiling above revealed a waxing moon peeking from a bank of wispy clouds. Its silvery moonlight bathed winter wonderland below.

At the far end of the room where the teachers’ table usually sat was a stage. The famous Weird Sisters, who were playing a rather sedate waltz, didn’t seem to mind the fog being generated by the eagle and snake ice sculptures that stood guard to either side. The fragrance of the yellow mist was stronger, reminiscent of Christmas candy, and matched the golden ornaments strung around the Hall.

Alex gathered the ball must have just begun as students were just milling about. Behind the band, the face of a large clock shined and shimmered against the wall, marking the time until midnight, when the Masquerade ended. Two guys in Weird Sisters shirts that seemed to be crew for the band hung out near the back wall.

Walking past the snow-covered trees that lined portions of the room, Alex marveled at how much work Tonks must have put in.

_Hopefully she had help from the other staff members._

Tonks was nowhere in sight, but two unlikely people had garnered the attention of just about everyone by dancing in the middle of the room. Their graceful movements sent the mist swirling about them. Alex did a double take, taking in the familiar tartan dress robes, and then made her where Jeannie was standing next to a table where drinks were being served.

Acting as if she was only interested in a beverage, Alex murmured, “Did you notice who our Headmaster is dancing with?”

“With whom he is dancing with,” she quietly corrected. “And by that you mean Tess. Looks like she’s already making good on her bet.”

“But I thought she was the one at the hall doors with Flitwick.”

Jeannie shrugged and blew a bubble before speaking. “I thought so, too, at first. They even have the same robes,” she replied, lifting her chin towards the doors. “I bet you anything Tess’ aunt is responsible for at least that part.” The mention of the bet seemed to prompt Jeannie to action. “Screw this, I’m not going to lose our wager to that – that-” Jeannie lowered her voice abruptly. “What do you call a minx in America?”

“Just use bitch,” Alex advised in a whisper that ended in a giggle.

“Bitch!” Jeannie exclaimed in a satisfied tone. With that, she strutted off towards Professor Amhurst.

Alex lifted her cup in a mock salute.

“Does she really think padding her bra and wearing those sorry Muggle rags is a disguise? Really, how Talon got into Transfiguration class is beyond me,” a woman’s voice said behind Alex in jaded tones.

A couple swept by, leaving Alex open-mouthed. The woman wore a scandalously revealing ensemble better suited on an exotic dancer.

_Or a prostitute._

Her thin dress was completely sheer, with only a few strategic patches of opaque. Adorning the hem were dozens of tiny bells that with each sway of her hips produced a rhythmic chime. The black demi-mask and the long, green scarf draped over her arms were the only decent elements of her attire.

“Honestly, Dumbledore should send Talon back to where she came from posthaste,” the witch recommended to her grey-haired companion who had her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. There was something vaguely familiar about his mouth and jaw line beneath the white demi-mask, which served to indicate he was a sixth-year despite his advanced age.

“That bitch!” Alex said, placing her cup on the table as the woman, who could only be Cressida, walked away.

The impulse to finger her wand, hidden in a secret pocket of her dress robe, was strong. Her hand crept close to the nearly invisible slit in her skit when out of nowhere, a silent wizard in rumpled robes and a nondescript mask captured Alex’s hand and firmly pulled her out on the floor. She spun around, losing sight of Cressida. After accidently stepping on her dance partner’s foot, making him briefly wince beneath his mask, Alex gave up looking for the Barbie Doll Bitch of the Dungeons and concentrated on her footwork. She followed her partner’s gentle lead as he silently took her through the unfamiliar paces of the waltz, in effect teaching her as they went along. They brushed by Dumbledore and McGonagall, the latter of which winked just an instant as they spun close.

Alex missed the clandestine signal, absorbed as she was on wizard twirling her about. Had he not stepped in, she might have given into the whim to hex Cressida and gotten in trouble. The distinct feeling that she knew this wizard was undeniable. She peered up into the eyeholes of the mask and saw a memorable pair of brown eyes with gold flecks. There was a sensation of something else looking out of those eyes, a fierce strength kept on a short leash.

“Remus?” she whispered in disbelief.

“Very nice disguise, Alex. The red hair threw me off,” he said, soft enough that no one else could hear. “I almost thought you were that girl in the Muggle clothing for a moment, at least until you called that witch a, well, unsavory name. Did you use a voice-swapping charm to disguise your accent? Well done! That mangy cousin of yours would be proud.”

She broke out in an ear-to-ear grin as she nodded in response to his question. “What are you doing here? And how did you know who I was?”

His chuckle was hoarse. “You can’t fool a werewolf, especially this close to the full moon. Your scent is distinctive, like night blossoms in a forest after the rain. Of course, that perfume of yours nearly covered it with the aroma of peppermint.”

_What perfume?_ The question rose in her mind, but Alex dismissed it. She had never had anyone describe her scent. For some reason, it pleased her immensely.

“And I’m here at Tonks’ invitation,” Remus answered her second question. “She’s been after me to attend for the past week. According to her with everyone in a disguise, trouble could easily slip in. She insisted it was only logical I patrol inside.”

“She can be quite insistent,” Alex agreed in a mock whisper. “Must be a family trait.”

With a snort of laughter, he replied, “One that I have more than a passing familiarity with, I’m afraid to say.”

The music drew to a close, and as it did Remus inclined his head closer. “I believe one of your professors is about to challenge you. Wand at the ready, yes? Good luck.”

With that, Remus spun Alex away. She didn’t even see him melt into the crowds – her attention was taken by Professor Sprout’s approach. Her hand slipped into her pocket and furtively withdrew her wand. Around them, students who had taken notice fell quiet. Even the band seemed hesitant to start the next set.

Wand held pointed at Alex, the Herbology teacher said, “Katie Bell, Gryffindor. _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Neatly Alex turned the Disarming charm aside, but when nothing else happened, a smattering of clapping arose and the Weird Sisters launched into their next song, something less sedate than a waltz. It seemed she was the first student to be challenged and she had met it successfully.

Professor Sprout frowned. “You’re not Isolde Worthington of Ravenclaw, are you?”

Mutely Alex shook her head.

“Hermione Granger then?”

“I’m afraid not, Professor.” She tapped her demi-mask to emphasis her point.

“Oh bother, I was never good at this sort of thing,” Sprout confessed. “Good job, though.” With that, she tottered off towards a table loaded with _hors d'oeuvres_.

Alex slipped out of the way of several dancers and spotted Jeannie talking to Professor Amhurst. The Ancient Runes instructor shook his head when Jeannie pointed to the dance floor. It was clear he was refusing her request.

_Ha! That means at least the two of us are even,_ Alex mused. Then a thought occurred to her. _But wait, wasn’t Remus a teacher here a few years back?_ A smile tugged at her lips. _Tess never said it had to be a current professor to count. Score one for me!_

A tall, thin wizard with a pale face beneath limp brown hair nearby mistook Alex’s private smile and wordlessly offered to dance with her by extending a hand. She thought he might a seventh year Ravenclaw since he wore a silver eagle pin but no mask. Then he proved her wrong the moment he spoke. His accent as he complimented her was terrible, almost as bad as when Alex tried to mimic a native. It could only be Xander Stephens.

Shaking her head, she ignored his comment about her luminous eyes. “A word of advice, Mr. Stephens,” Alex said, trying her best to emulate the vocabulary of an adult. “I’d stick with the silent approach. Your accent is quite distinguishable.” The last part was nearly word for word what Mrs. Mellor had told Alex weeks earlier.

“Damn,” Xander cursed softly. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

If he didn’t, Alex suspected Xander would soon find himself on the wrong end of a teacher’s challenge. She wished him luck as the song ended, segueing into something uptempo that had the students dancing about.

Tonks had established a graduated scale for the Masquerade. Fifth years only had to alter their basic appearance, including hair color, eyes, and outfit. Tonks didn’t expect them to be able to fully disguise their identity without masks, not for the length of the Masquerade. All fifth years had to keep their medallion somewhere on their person, but out of sight. Tucking it into a pocket was sufficient while wands had to be discreetly carried. If a teacher approached with a wand out, they were expected to deflect basic hexes.

Those in Alex’s grade had to transform their medallions into something innocent looking, wear it openly and conceal their wands until challenged. While they could don a demi-mask, their disguise had to be complete. The charms leveled at them would be a little more complex.

Seventh years like Xander had the hardest task of all. They had to obscure the very presence of their medallion as well as their wand, all while maintaining their disguise without the benefit of a mask. That he’d managed to alter the color of his skin and the texture of his hair showed he had had the benefit of attending a similar outing last year at AMA.

_Plus Xander knew better than to draw too much attention to himself by dressing outrageously, unlike little Miss Barbie Doll over there._

Standing next to the snake ice sculpture as it continued to breathe mist, Alex watched as a Professor McGonagall level her wand at Cressida.

_Beorn’s balls, I hope that the real McGonagall._

“Solanum, sixth year Slytherin,” the Deputy Headmistress declared. “You should be ashamed of yourself, dressing that way.”

There was a shimmer and then her raven hair faded to blonde as the glamor Cressida had hidden her features behind fell apart. McGonagall then flicked her wand and the green scarf writhed in mid-air, becoming a heavy blanket. It wrapped itself snuggly around Cressida, leaving only her head and feet exposed.

With a glare at McGonagall, she huffed off in bitter disappointment, much to Alex’s open amusement. The older gentleman who had accompanied Ivy stared curiously at Alex.

Thinking it better to make a quick exit, Alex skirted around some couples to the other side of the Hall. There a brilliant flash took her by surprise. A boy she thought went by the name Creevey stood directly in front of her with a camera. Alex was surprised since the masquerade was strictly for upperclassmen. A dreamy faced girl with strangely shaped earrings stood next to him with a parchment and quill. The girl’s name slipped her mind, but Alex was sure she wasn’t a fifth-year. Fourth-years and below were restricted from attending, yet there those two stood, neither of them with masks. Then Alex remembered that the girl was responsible for the _Hogwarts Herald_.

_I hope they snapped a picture of Cressida failing! Plaster that on the front page of the school newsletter!_

The first hour of the Masquerade passed faster than she expected. Alex ended up dancing several times and witnessed at least a dozen students fail to fool their instructors with their disguises. Most were fifth years, like the goons that followed her cousin Malfoy around, inexperienced with hiding their identity. There were exceptions, though, including Xander whose voice gave him away to Professor Tonks.

Taking a moment to catch her breath after dancing, Alex ended up near the ice eagle and noticed Professor Flitwick tending to sculpture. When Flitwick caught her staring, he smiled.

“We wouldn’t want the mist to stop. It adds such a lovely ambiance.” He winked at her and tapped the side of his nose.

_Fog is very nice,_ Alex decided. She observed as it spilled across the floor and out into the Entrance Hall. Wisps of it were pooled up among those dancing and out the now open windows. _It even smells nice, like a big peppermint stick._

The thought of peppermint reminded her of Remus and his comment about her perfume. The feeling that she was missing something important rose up, and Alex frowned, searching her mind. _Oh yeah, Remus was a teacher and I’m supposed to try and win that bet about dancing with teachers._

“Professor Flitwick, would you care to dance?”

They made an odd couple with Alex towering over the diminutive Charms instructor, but she didn’t care that the height difference made for awkward dancing. The Masquerade was unlike anything she had experienced. After weeks of studying Potions non-stop, she was determined cut loose to enjoy herself.

Jeannie strolled by as the song ended, marking the end of the set. Her roommate shook her head at Alex and rolled her eyes. Thanking Flitwick for the dance, Alex followed her roommate to an empty area near the trees. There one of the McGonagalls stood observing the students. A quick wink from the Deputy Headmistress identified her as Tess.

“Four,” Tess said quietly as Alex joined them, noting how many professors she had danced with.

“You bitch,” Jeannie muttered. “One. Amhurst.”

Alex gave her a sidelong glance but said nothing. Perhaps Jeannie had convinced the Ancient Runes teacher after he rejected her.

Tess tsked. “Best step up your game.” Then she turned an eye to Alex.

“Two,” Alex responded to the unspoken question.

With a shake of her head, Tess said, “How disappointing! I tell you what, how about I make it a little easier for you two to catch up to me?” A mischievous grin spread across her face as she pointed to the door of the staffroom, which this year had relocated to just off the back of the Great Hall. Standing next to it was Filch, who glared at students as he stroked his cat. “Either of you dances with Filch or Snape, and I will double – no, triple – your points.”

At the suggestion of something so preposterous, Jeannie’s mouth dropped open. Alex had taken a breath to respond when out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw Professor Snape make his way towards them.

“Speak of the devil,” she hissed as she discreetly took several steps away. The Head of Slytherin had been responsible for a number of students having their identity revealed.

Snape strode directly towards Jeannie and leveled a wand at her. “Talon, sixth-year, Gryffindor. Is that the best you could manage?” He flicked his wand silently.

Jeannie blocked the hex Snape aimed at her. Then she calmly looked the Potions Master up and down, and with her chewing gum blew a massive bubble in his face. When it popped, she said, “Screw you, Sherlock.”

Snape openly stared as Jeannie sauntered off with her disguise still firmly in place. He obviously had expected it to unravel when he stated her name and House.

It was all Alex could do not to laugh. She turned to see what Tess had made of what had just gone down and found her other roommate had disappeared. With a shrug of her shoulders, Alex calmly turned her back on Snape as if nothing had happened and walked away.

It was only when she shifted her focus to the stage that Alex discovered where Tess had slipped away. The lead singer for the Weird Sisters had stepped away for a break, leaving the rest of the band to play an instrumental piece. All of that changed once Tess walked on stage. The Head of Gryffindor undid her hair, gave it a wild headshake and grabbed the microphone.

“Come on boys,” she called out to the band, “Let’s do _‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’!_ ”

When the music started, McGonagall started belting out a song in an amazingly good voice. Alex whooped with laughter and started clapping. Somewhere off to the side, Creevey was snapping photos like a madman. Students started pushing forward, crowding around the stage and dancing. Alex moved away, not wanting to join in the insanity as it unfolded.

She witnessed blonde Hermione grab a black-haired boy and start dancing in a very un-Hermione manner, grinding her hips back against him. Alex had no idea who he was, but it didn’t seem to bother the younger Prefect. Nearby a dreamy faced girl – _Luna_ , Alex remembered abruptly – allowed her parchment to flutter to the ground as she decided to dance against the other side of the black-haired boy, effectively sandwiching him.

On top of two tables across the hall twin versions of Flitwick danced jigs. Alex blinked her eyes, thinking something must have gone wrong with her visions, yet the mirror images of Flitwick remained.

_Merlin’s balls of fire, someone else made Polyjuice!_

She had no idea whether the professor she danced with had been the real Flitwick or the fake one. Either way didn’t intend to alter her wager count.

The fact that there were twin sets of professors didn’t escape the notice of other attendees. Students danced around the table the Flitwicks had taken over, cheering them on in some sort of dance contest. An indignant-looking McGonagall stood at the end of the hall with one hand firmly grasping Angelina Johnson’s forearm while the Gryffindor captain pointed at the Deputy Headmistress on stage.

Bubbles began floating from the ice sculptures and drifted above the dancers along the ceiling or swirled out of the windows. One landed on Alex’s hand where she stood in the shadows of the trees and she rolled it across her palm before it burst in her face with a pearlescent sparkle and the scent of peppermint.

It was like a surreal dream or a wild tea party minus the rabbit. Someone shot red sparks from their wand into the air and others followed suit. Soon the air was filled a veritable cascade of multi-hued sparks.

The sight had Alex in giggles. _Stiff upper-lip my ass – um, arse!_

Then the music became wilder, almost frantic, as one of the band members brought out a violin. The older gentleman Alex had seen previously with Cressida grabbed her hand and twirled her away from the shadows. She spun in his arms until the faces around her were only a blur.

“Who are you?” he shouted in her ear, but Alex shook her head and yanked her hands out of his.

Picking up her heavy skirts, Alex weaved through the crush of students and nearly ran into Harry. He had discarded his mask, exposing the telltale mark on his forehead. Alex watched spellbound for a moment as The Boy Who Lived danced with – _is that Cho Chang?_ \- in a herky-jerky motion that involved grabbing one foot from behind, while yanking his head down with the other hand. It was altogether disconcerting, making Alex almost dizzy just watching the younger Gryffindor flail about.

_Fresh air. I think I need a little fresh air._

She stumbled away, out into the Entrance Hall where the air was slightly cooler. A group of students was playing wizard poker on the floor as the fog pooled around them. Alex halted when she realized each was in various stages on undress. One of the players, down to only his underwear, groaned and threw his hand of cards to the ground.

“Bad luck there, Longbottom!” one of them exclaimed.

“Guys, please!” Neville protested as he stood up.

“You know the rules!”

When Neville hooked his thumbs under his waistband, Alex quickly turned away and headed outside. She was unwilling to bear witness to what was about to happen next.

_Oh boy, that’s something I need to remember **not** to remember._

In stark contrast to what was happening inside, outside the stonewalls all was peaceful. Fog from the Entrance Hall poured out and into the rose garden. Scattered on the path were stone benches, many of which were occupied by couples. Music could be faintly heard from the Great Hall and it sounded as if McGonagall was still singing. As if in response, the distant sound of howling rose from the Forbidden Forest in counterpoint to the melody. Unconsciously Alex touched her wrist and wished she could have worn her wolf-bracelet.

Beyond the rose garden and along the side of the Great Hall was a stand of trees hedged in by bushes. Alex wandered the path that ran through it, noting the fog had crept its way even here. Off to one side, someone had hung mistletoe with red ribbon, perhaps in hopes of stealing a kiss. She flicked the mini-bouquet with a fingertip and set it spinning. Then she encountered a small alcove formed by the greenery and framed by the branches. Alex entered, grateful to be alone and away from the madness of the Great Hall.

_I can’t believe that Longbottom kid is going to streak through the Masquerade. He’s going to get docked at least 100 points._

Alex pulled up short when she realized she was not the sole occupant of the alcove. The fog and the shadows hid most of him, leaving only part of his face and recognizable nose visible. Her first instinct was to step away. Alex had heard rumors about Snape making patrols during last’s year Yule Ball. He had gone through the garden, blasting bushes and taking away points of those he caught making use of the darkness. Jeannie not turning out to be Alex when he challenged her probably hadn’t done much for his mood.

With her next breath, Alex recalled what Tess had said earlier. _'Either of you dance with Filch or Snape, and I will double – no, triple – your points.'_

It was sheer insanity, what she was contemplating. Her mask was still in place, though, and her disguise had not been compromised.

_If you’re going to dance on thin ice …_

Taking a bold step forward, Alex presented herself brazenly in front of the Potions master, one hand held out in an open invitation to dance. In response, Snape held himself stiffly and glared down at her. Alex responded by tilting her head questioningly. When it appeared that her professor would refuse her offer, Alex daringly pressed the matter.

“I’m disappointed, Professor. I hadn’t realized you were such a … coward.” The words were delivered in perfectly jaded tones with an emphasis on the last word. She turned to leave somewhat dissatisfied by his lack of reaction. With a startling swiftness, Alex found her hand captured and was roughly spun about to face him.

“Do not call me a coward,” he growled, squeezing her hand painfully for a moment. Then with a slow deliberation, Snape pulled her closer and place his other hand on her waist. A delicious shiver ran the length of her spine. Alex reached up and placed her left hand on his shoulder. It had not occurred to her until that moment that the Potions Master had wide shoulders. Why hadn’t she realized that during the flood?

What was more surprising to her was the manner in which he danced. He led her in a stately waltz, moving with a grace that easily surpassed Remus’ footwork and displaying an elegance not evident in the classroom.

_Oh Merlin, the Potions Master can dance …_

“Who are you?” The question was posed languidly, but his eyes burned with fierce intensity.

Alex smiled beneath her demi-mask. Her new height combined with her heels meant Alex no longer had to crane her neck to look up at him. She dropped her gaze rapidly to study the numerous black buttons that ran up the front of his coat. Looking him in the eyes would be too dangerous. It would only take him a moment to discern the forested landscape of her mind and identify her.

“Now, now, Professor,” she said, wracking her brain a second time that evening in an attempt to sound less like her typical self. _What would mom say?_ “The rules clearly state you are not allowed to inquire about my identity directly. Where is that vaunted Slytherin cleverness?”

He snorted derisively. “Your House and year, then.” As he whirled her about, the hand at the side of her waist slid until it was splayed across the small of her back.

A familiar thrill coursed through her, down from her chest to the pit of her stomach. A small part of her screamed that she shouldn’t be dancing with Snape at all, not pressed up so firmly against him. Even her mother would have pointed out Remus had maintained a gentlemanly distance. But the majority of her didn’t care and that voice of reason was rapidly squashed. This was the most fun she had had all year, far better than all those silly pranks.

Such was her carefree mood that Alex graciously decided to let Snape’s infraction slide. “Ravenclaw,” Alex answered. Isolde Worthington was almost the same height, if a different build.

“I think not,” he responded in a chilling voice that would have scared any other student. It only made her chuckle in a low, husky voice. The grip on her hand tightened convulsively.

“Hmmm … how about Hufflepuff then? Mara-”

A snarl of disapproval cut her off. “Do not lie to me,” he said in a tone that held an unspoken warning.

_Oops! Mara’s heavier than I am._

She glanced up at his face briefly and then dropped her eyes to the safety of his lips, which were pressed in a firm line. Alex wondered why she had never noticed his lips before.

A cold drop of rain landed on her exposed arm, then another, driving the absurd thoughts of his lips out of her mind. Alex raised her face to the gentle shower and smiled as the golden fog around them dissipated. The rain brought with it an intoxicating scent of Christmas, of flowers in the springtime and something indefinable.

“Tell me, Professor,” she began, “if I answer your question, would you submit to one of mine?”

After a brief pause, he nodded once.

She answered with a sigh, “Slytherin, or at least I might have been … maybe I should have been, it’s part of my name …” Her voice trailed off wistfully and she frowned.

_Why didn’t I pick Slytherin?_

Abruptly Snape halted their dance and Alex swayed slightly in his arms. The hand at her back was warm as it held her immobile against him while the heavy material of her dress robes clung to her like a cold second skin. A delicate shudder ran through her.

“Look at me,” he demanded in a ragged tone that brooked no argument.

Raindrops kissed her cheeks as she refused and then lowered her head. The joyous, carefree sensation that had carried her through the ball was fading, washing away with each cold drop.

Snape tugged the ribbon holding her mask in place and allowed it to fall to the ground. Then he caught her chin in his hand and tilted her head upwards. She watched as a perplexed expression crossed his face. The name he whispered made no sense to Alex; she knew no one named Lily among the students. Questioningly she sought his eyes without a second thought, and in the next breath was caught by his enigmatic gaze, drowning in its dark depths. She felt his cool touch at the edges of her mind, felt his startled recognition.

“Talon.”

As he spoke her name, the spells masking her appearance unraveled. Red hair darkened beneath his gaze until it matched the night. Like the color spilling out of a painting, the sparkling bottle-green color of her eyes drained away to that of a stormy grey.

“Your eyes,” he murmured, shaking his head in bewilderment. He started to say something else, but abruptly snapped closed his mouth. The hand at her waist dropped and he took a swift step backward that left a cold space between them.

Alex shivered only partially from the rain. She ran a hand through her hair uncertainly as questions darted through her mind like quicksilver. What was she doing dancing with Professor Snape? Why did his emotionless gaze cut her to the quick? Her stomach turned over uncomfortably.

Confused, Alex bent down to grab her fallen mask, wanting nothing more than to hide away from his cold glare as tears unexpectedly welled up in her eyes. Numb fingers held the mask in place as she spun around and stumbled away through the tree trunks. She pushed past a wide-eyed Creevey who was desperately trying to shelter his camera from the light drizzle. There was a muffled thud of something hitting the ground. Then her belt was snagged by an errant branch and she felt it rip away as the cold rain came down harder.

She staggered towards the Entrance Hall. Along the path she fleetingly noticed Harry kissing Cho beneath the mistletoe. It was only when she reached the steps of the school that Alex paused long enough to tie the ribbons holding her mask. Then she noticed the group playing cards had disappeared. In their place Alex saw Jeannie walking cozily between two taller figures, each wearing Weird Sisters t-shirts. One of them opened the door leading to the first-floor classroom corridor. The light of the hallway braziers caught their faces. Jeannie no longer sported dark hair nor her mask. She giggled and leaned her head on one of the Weasley twins’ shoulders.

Alex slumped against the wall and closed her eyes in disbelief. The hall door the three had walked through had swung shut by the time she opened her eyes moments later. Before she could react, loud voices from the small chamber just off to the side caught her attention

“But I love you! Can’t you see that?”

Alex was shocked to recognize the voice. It was Tonks. She went over to the partially opened door and peered in. Her cousin was throwing herself at Remus Lupin, attempting to kiss him. He pushed her back and held her at arm's length.

“I don’t love you, Tonks. I never have. My heart has always belonged to Sarah. You have to accept that.”

With a gasp of pain, Tonks’ face crumpled.

Suddenly it all made sense. Tonks’ behavior at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the look of jealousy and longing cast his way. Then her cousin’s scent leading to the Forbidden Forest, waiting in the clearing only to return depressed and with drab hair.

Tonks had been waiting to see Lupin. She had feelings for him … feelings he obviously didn’t share for her.

The pain and hopelessness written on Tonks’ face combined with the tumultuous emotions still racing through her chest from the dance she had just shared were more than Alex could bear. She lifted her skirts and fled to the Lion’s Den.

~ ~ * ~ ~

A rampaging troll was running around hammering the inside of her head relentlessly. That was what it felt like when Alex cracked opened her eyes to the harsh midmorning light. Someone moaned in pain nearby. It took a moment for Alex to realize that she, in fact, was the one moaning and not her absent roommates.

Twenty agonizing minutes later, Alex still felt semi-dead, but decidedly clean. The tepid shower had somewhat revived her. The inside of her mouth tasted like … she didn’t think about it. The mere thought of toothpaste made her stomach roil. She’d deal with the finer points of hygiene later.

As she made her way downstairs, Alex kept feeling that something had happened the previous evening, something significant. She couldn’t ask either Jeannie or Tess; neither of them was present. Alex’s memories were indistinct. The moment she tried to grasp one, it slipped away every time like mist.

_Or a fog that smelled like candy?_ The thought made no sense to Alex.

At the door of the Great Hall, Madam Pomfrey had set up a table. Lowerclassmen were assisting her in handing out steaming cups of tea to those students staggering about like Alex.

“Drink up, it will clear your head of that euphoria elixir hangover. Mind that you eat something as well.”

Alex numbly did as advised and settled herself at the Gryffindor table. Then turned her attention those around her. It seemed half of them were slumped over, nursing cups of tea. The other half appeared to be in varying stages of recovery. She idly identified the contents of her cup by scent and taste.

_Dandelion root. Chamomile and ginger. Mint?_

Partway through a second cup, Alex realized what Madam Pomfrey had said. They were suffering from a euphoria elixir-induced hangover. The scent of peppermint was the first memory to resurface, followed by the fragrant fog that had permeated the Great Hall. Alex groaned when she realized what had happened. Fred and George had asked about that particular elixir and she had helped them. It had been her idea to use an aerosol approach.

_Peppermint! Why didn’t I realize it last night? They must have put it in the ice sculptures._

Then other memories started to bubble up. At first, Alex thought they were figments of her imagination, like tattered bits of a fever dream. As the moments passed it became abundantly clear that they were not. Whispers went up and down the tables of things others had seen or done, things Alex could see vividly playing out in her head.

Granger moaned in despair about dancing with none other than Draco Malfoy. A usually reserved Neville was blushing furiously as Lee and Seamus recounted how he had run around pantless. The way they went on, it was doubtful Neville would ever live it down. None of it explained why the notion of triple points kept playing through her mind.

Everyone agreed that McGonagall’s singing had been one of the highlights of the evening. For all that they laughed heartily about such recollections, though, several times Alex caught Fred and George covertly glancing up and down the table with an almost guilty air about them. Alex thought they were worried about being caught.

_And they should be!_

Suddenly Tess collapsed onto the bench next to Alex. She had the same hangdog look about her that everyone was wearing to some degree. Without a word, they both glanced at the head table. McGonagall apparently recovered enough to look absolutely mortified.

“Was that you singing last night?” Alex whispered to her roommate.

Tess merely shook her head and whispered, “I was busy giving a month of detention to Angelina. With Finch.” When Alex silently regarded her with raised eyebrows, her roommate continued. “I warned her not to tell anyone or I would ban her from Quidditch.”

_If McGonagall finds that out, Tess is dead._

A quick look at Angelina revealed the Gryffindor Quidditch captain looked unusually subdued. Alex briefly wondered if McGonagall would find out it and turned her attention to the head table. The Deputy Headmistress, for her part, appeared to have other matters on her mind. Her expression was one part of mortification and one part regret.

At McGonagall’s side sat Tonks, who bore a forlorn countenance. The image of Tonks throwing herself at Lupin – _Lupin was here?_ – flitted across Alex’s mind. As she tried to sort out if that had really happened or if it was just a fantasy of her mind, Tonks abruptly left the table. The remaining teachers wore similar expressions of awkwardness. The only exception was Professor Snape, whose face was an inscrutable mask.

When Alex saw him, her breath caught in her chest and the muscles of her stomach tightened uncomfortably. Memories overwhelmed her. Dancing in the moonlight beneath the shelter of the trees with his hand pressed to her lower back. Lying outrageously to him about her identity. Staring at his lips. His warning to her not to lie and the subsequent promise.

Snape’s dark eyes caught her gaze at that moment, trapping her before Alex dropped her face into her hands.

_Oh heavens … what was I thinking? This … this is worse than the flood! I danced with Professor Snape!_

Questions chased themselves around her brain. Did he remember? Had anyone seen them? Was she insane? Alex wanted to crawl back into her bed and stay there forever. She pressed against her stomach, feeling as if she was going to be sick. The desire to slide off the long bench and sink beneath the stone floor was overwhelming.

Then the worse thought of all crossed Alex mind as she realized what day it was.

_I have to take Snape’s exam in a few hours._

_I’m doomed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from ‘Dancing in the Dark’ by Bruce Springsteen, Born in the U.S.A.
> 
> Special thanks go out to Shurfine, ChronoBlade and LadyVain for being great readers.


	16. What Was I Thinkin'?

The messenger bag slid smoothly onto the rack above the bench seat, directly across from where Hermione Granger sat. Alex’s understanding was that Prefects typically sat together in their own compartment on the train when headed to Hogwarts at the start of the year. Departing from the school was a different matter, which was how Alex came to find herself alone with the younger Gryffindor. Instead of engaging Hermione in a conversation about the holidays or something equally inane like the other students she had heard chatting up and down the train, Alex slumped onto the cushioned bench with a textbook tucked beside her. Idly she gazed out the window. 

The events of the last two days had left her mind whirling. Even her assumption of where she would be spending Christmas break had been turned on its head. It wasn’t as if she had forgotten about Sirius, but between studying for the exam and having had no family for so long, Alex hadn’t really thought about it. Previous years had seen her living at AMA as a ward and spending all her holidays on campus. She just assumed it would be the same with Hogwarts. McGonagall had made it clear that the Order felt differently.

_‘You’ll stick with Miss Granger,’_ her Head of House had informed Alex early Monday morning. _‘She knows the Order members who will be waiting at Kings Cross to escort the two of you once the Hogwarts Express arrives.’_

The idea of an escort might have seemed a little odd had Alex not lived through the destruction of AMA and afterward been pursued to the airport. Even though it felt as if that had all happened a lifetime ago, the attack on Arthur Weasley hadn’t. Alex didn’t know much about what had happened to the head of the Weasley family other than it had been Order related and that Harry had somehow known of it while it was happening.

_From what Tonks said, it seems like everyone is spending the holidays at Sirius’ home._

Just then the train gave a little lurch and began pulling away from the station. Slowly it picked up speed. Alex didn’t know exactly how far Hogwarts was from London, but unless the Express was modeled after the bullet trains in Japan, she was certain it would take all day to reach their destination.

“Why don’t they just use a Portkey?” she muttered to herself.

“You mean to transport the students?” Hermione responded.

Alex blinked in surprise. _Crap, I didn’t mean to say that out loud._

Hermione continued, “They tried that back in 1692, but too many students either missed their assigned time slot or arrived with Portkey sickness and ended up in the Hospital ward. At least that’s what I read. Is that how they do it in America – they use Portkeys?”

Seeing no way out the conversation, Alex nodded. “We have a larger country to cover so a train wouldn’t work. You either come in on a broom if you’re a very experienced flyer and have a strong stomach, Apparate if you’ve passed the exam, or use the Portkey.”

“But how do they deal with the sickness?”

“Nabbie’s Portkey Punch.” Alex explained how the tavern at Merrymount Landing served a proprietary beverage that prevented any ill effects. That seemed to satisfy Hermione until she noted the textbook next to Alex.

“Is that _‘Advanced Potions-Making’_? I had heard Professor Snape promoted you to sixth-year Potions. Congratulations.”

The thought of the exam made Alex wince.

“Was it that bad?” Hermione seemed genuinely concerned, something that Alex hadn’t expected.

“If by bad you mean painfully awkward, then yeah. It was the day after the Masquerade,” Alex answered, pressing her fingertips to her forehead as if to physically block the memory. Impulsively she added, “After I called him a coward. To his face. What was I thinking?”

_More importantly, what the hell am I doing telling Hermione that?_

Hermione cringed sympathetically. The Masquerade was a sore point for the majority of the attendees, including Granger. She was still being ribbed for having danced with Malfoy.

“At least you passed,” Hermione offered. Pointing at the textbook, she said, “Perhaps you should start studying over the holiday, you know, to prove you’re earnest.”

“That’s my plan,” Alex said. The wry twist of her lips told the real tale; she doubted she’d remember even a fifth of what she’d read, not with her head was so full of thoughts. When Hermione she pulled out a heavy tome entitled _‘Transfigurations Throughout the Ages’_ from her knitted bag, Alex breathed out a grateful sigh and settled her textbook in her lap.

The cover was battered, evidence that the book had seen better days. Alex hadn’t even bothered glancing at it when a smirking McCready had dropped it off the previous evening as she ate dinner. He couldn’t part without mockingly congratulating her on finally joining sixth-year Potions, a class they would both share. 

_He was probably snickering at the condition of this book, too. The thing looks like it’s been around for at least twenty years. Leave it to Snape to give me a reject-book._

Flipping it open, she found a slip of paper with her new class schedule. Her typical study period had been neatly swapped with sixth year Potions and vice versa. There were two additional notations indicating Remedial Potion lessons during the week. Her Tuesday evenings and Saturday afternoons now belonged to the Potion master.

Below the schedule was an odd mark: two harshly drawn horizontal lines bisected by a short diagonal line. With a fingertip, she lightly traced the lines as her mind reeled back to the oral portion of her test, and the questions Professor Snape had posed. The painful awkwardness between them had started to dissipate somewhat by that point. It was the beginning of the exam, when she initially walked into his office, which had twisted her stomach into knots.

_Snape pointed to the worktable where a cauldron had been set. To one side of it were close to two dozen ingredients; the other side held only a knife. “Perform the first three steps in preparing the Elixir to Induce Euphoria.”_

_The urge to repeatedly slam her head on the desk was nearly overwhelming. Of all the concoctions he could have selected to test her on, the Potions master had deliberately set her to the one used at the Masquerade._

_Silently admonishing herself to get it together, Alex focused on the numerous ingredients. She didn’t need to consult her ars memoria to know the elixir called for less than half a dozen. It was obvious the other ingredients were there as part of Snape’s assessment of her skills – as if she could be so easily confused. Alex began moving selected components to the other side of the cauldron, naming each one aloud as she did so._

_“Shrivelfig. Porcupine quills.” Although her eyes never left the worktable, she was aware of Snape circling around her like a vulture. “Sopophorus beans. Wormwood. Peppermint.”_

_The moment the last syllable escaped her lips, Snape slammed a hand down on the table. “Stop! That’s not one of the standard ingredients listed in the textbook.”_

_Alex flinched, as rattled as the objects next to the cauldron that still quivered._

_“I didn’t do it.” The words slipped out, uttered without a second thought._

_“Didn’t do what, Miss Talon?”_

_She met his cold gaze, noted his lips pressed into a thin line and the quick flare of his nostrils as he inhaled. Each one was a warning flag. He was waiting for her to say the wrong thing._

_“I didn’t drug everyone with euphoria last night. I’ve already spoken to Dumbledore. He believes me. He said he already has an idea who did it.”_

_Crossing his arms over his chest, Snape replied, “I am well aware of what the Headmaster believes. Yet here you are adding peppermint, the precise component the culprits attempted to use to nullify some of the more notable side effects.” His low voice was loud in the hush of the room. “If you are as innocent as you claim, then how do you explain that?”_

_Alex caught her lower lip between her teeth. She couldn’t very well explain that Fred and George were responsible for the prank, or that she was the one that had suggested adding peppermint. No one would believe she hadn’t been part of the twins’ plans, nor did she harbor any desire to throw them under the bus. Neither could she afford to be silent. After the flooding of the dungeon, Dumbledore had promised further infractions would result in her dismissal._

_“The scent,” she finally said with a shrug, hoping the explanation would be enough. “It was everywhere last night, in the Hall and out in the gardens.” Her eyes dropped. “My dress robes still smell like peppermint.”_

_Nothing she said was a lie, yet her words did not fully convey the truth. Dodging around her involvement bothered her less than how close the conversation skirted the subject of their dance, no matter that it had been the elixir’s fault._

The train gently rocked Alex back to the present as she mused, _The elixir was totally to blame, wasn’t it?_

Realizing she’d been sitting there looking at the table of contents for over a quarter of an hour, Alex shook the memory clear. A glance at Hermione assured her the Prefect had either not noticed Alex’s inattention to the textbook or had decided to let it slide. She was grateful either way and thumbed through the pages until she found the first potion. The margins of the pages were filled with cramped, spiky handwriting. Not only was the textbook old, with pages that retained a musty smell, but its previous owner had had no qualms with adding notations, underlining passages or striking parts out altogether.

_Ugh! I wonder if I can pick up a new edition over Christmas break. Unless giving me a defaced book was some subtle test from Snape._ She sighed, _Wouldn’t surprise me, now that I think about it. He could easily have given me one in better condition._

It still grated on Alex that the Potion master had a few spare copies of the textbooks for each school year in his possession. It would have helped her in her studies leading up to the exam. Not that she would have deigned to approach him had she known; her pride wouldn’t have allowed that. Then again, getting the textbooks from Hogsmeade had allowed her to arrange for her initial dress robes – the ones she hadn’t been able to use at the Masquerade.

_And you’ve come full circle again, Alex. Congratulations._

The compartment door opening cut off her snarky internal dialogue.

“ _Hogwarts Herald_ anyone?” a dreamy voice asked. “Oh, Hermione. Would like a copy of the _Herald’s_ Christmas Special?”

The fourth-year girl from the Masquerade stood in the doorway holding out the school newsletter. Her turnip earrings swayed gently to the movement of the train.

“What makes it special, Luna?” Hermione queried, her eyes flitting from the girl with her long dirty-blond hair to the stack of newsletters that she held securely against her chest.

“It’s a double-edition covering the Masquerade,” Luna answered brightly as she stepped in and handed one to Hermione. “We had to expand the newsletter so we could include all the pictures Colin took.”

At her words, Alex froze, fingers clenching the textbook. _Pictures? Of the Masquerade?_

A sinkhole formed in the general region of Alex’s stomach as she recalled seeing the younger Gryffindor boy at the event, snapping numerous photos … shielding a camera from the rain when her disguise unraveled and she fled from Professor Snape’s cold gaze. 

“There’s a picture on page two of us dancing.” Helpfully Luna pointed at the moving photograph when Hermione flipped open her newsletter. “It’s a rather good shot, don’t you think?” 

Even from where she was seated, Alex could clearly see the black and white image of Hermione gyrating suggestively against one side of Malfoy while Luna swayed alongside him from the opposite direction. 

“Tell me, is that how all Muggles dance, Hermione?”

Hermione’s face flushed a deep red and she seemed at a loss for words. Luckily for her, Luna turned at that moment and saw Alex.

“Oh, hello. You’re Alex, aren’t you? I’m not sure we’ve met. I’m Luna Lovegood.” She held out a newsletter to Alex. “Would you like one? I don’t think we featured a picture of you, though.”

A spark of hope flickered in Alex’s chest as she numbly accepted the two large sheets of parchments that had been folded over and adhered together. Her eyes darted across the front page, flitting past the headline and focusing on the pictures. The ice sculptures and the euphoria-laced mist. The Weird Sisters on stage. The dance off between the twin Flitwicks. A flash of Neville’s pale bottom as he streaked across the dance floor. 

“Have you distributed many of these, Luna?” 

Hermione’s question barely registered on Alex’s radar as she flipped the newsletter open. Cressida hadn’t made the front page, but her embarrassing dismissal had at least been captured in all its glory and displayed in the middle section of the newsletter. Even that didn’t loosen the pressure in Alex’s chest. It felt as if her bra had been transfigured into a vice and was attempting to squeeze the breath from her lungs.

“Oh, yes! It’s our most popular issue. Everyone loves it.” The turnip earrings bounced merrily as Luna bobbed her head. “Especially the picture of Professor Snape on the last page.”

Alex’s throat convulsively closed shut and she went as still as a dead Doxy. 

“Professor Snape?” It was clear Hermione couldn’t image why a picture of the foreboding Potions master would be so popular among the student body.

_God, please no._ Alex’s storm grey eyes shifted from the newsletter to the compartment window. 

“Everyone forgets about their own picture after they look at it.” Luna took the newsletter out of Hermione’s hands and flipped it over to the back. “You see, Professor Snape was dancing with a student.”

Thoughts of whether it would be possible to throw herself off the train via the small latched window raced through Alex’s mind. Death had to be less painful.

“The picture is – what’s wrong with it?” Hermione’s voice held a note of curiosity. 

_What’s wrong? It shows me dancing with Snape, that's what's wrong!_ Alex groaned internally.

Heedless of Alex’s silent torment, Hermione insisted, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a wizarding photograph like this.” She twisted the newsletter at an angle and peered closer at the picture.

_Just shoot me now._

“The film was damaged. Colin said it had started to rain when he dropped the camera and accidently exposed the film.”

In her mind’s eye, Alex remembered Creevey as she pushed past him, a muffled thud, her belt tearing away…

Her hands fluttered to her waist. At this rate, her breakfast of toast and bacon was going to make an unexpected second appearance. She had to look at that picture – had to know if it revealed her face - but the last thing she wanted was to do so while anyone was around to see her reaction.

_What I need is someplace where I can look at it alone._

“Are you alright there, Alex? You look a little pale.”

Alex jerked her head to look at the two younger girls who were eyeing her curiously. Somehow she managed a wan grimace.

“Is it a dapperblimp?” Luna set down her stack of newsletters and began to dig in her bag. “I thought I saw signs of one when I first got on board the train.” A moment later, she pulled out a weird set of multicolored glasses and perched them on her nose.

Although she was sure she had never heard of a dapperblimp before, Alex was grateful for the temporary distraction Luna had given her. 

“Actually, I think it’s just my period. Do you know where the, um-”

“Loos are?” Hermione pointed towards the right of the door. “They should be at the end of the carriage that way.”

Muttering a word of thanks, Alex escaped the compartment with the newsletter still clenched in hand. A handful of students milled in the corridor, mostly joking and gossiping. If they had newsletters of their own, Alex didn’t notice. She skirted by without a word, keeping her eyes cast downward even when she thought she heard a familiar voice call out her name, until she found the door to the girls’ bathroom. 

An enlarging spell had obviously been cast on the room because there was more than twice the amount of space that one would expect. There were six stalls, a washing area and full-length mirror. Luckily for Alex, it was entirely empty. She took advantage of the privacy, took a few deep breaths and then smoothed out the newsletter before flipping it over to the back.

Her stomach tensed. It was the only photo on a page that otherwise was dominated by text. A third of the picture was relatively intact. Snape was readily identifiable despite the odd flickering quality of the photograph and the low lighting. His gaze was intent on his dancing partner, whose back had been towards the camera. 

The damage not only made the subjects in the picture move about in a herky-jerky fashion, but had also rendered Alex’s identity a mystery. From just below the nape of her neck, the image was distorted. It was as though the picture was a reflection of a funhouse mirror viewed underwater. Only a handful of specifics could be made out. The first was that she had dark hair that was perhaps short or had been pinned up. The second was that she had been of average height, and finally, that she had worn a dress.

Even knowing she was looking at herself, Alex couldn’t recognize the person in the picture. The low lighting hid the fact her hair had been red at the time, and the between the aging potions and the heels concealed beneath the dress, her height as depicted in the photo was equally deceptive.

The pent-up breath she had been holding escaped with a soft “Oh” as she placed the newsletter on the counter next to the sink. Relief flooded over her.

_My own mother wouldn’t recognize me. Snape certainly hadn’t, not at first._

Thoughts of the Potions master and what his reaction might be to the newsletter flashed through her mind. If he hadn’t seen it already, he would soon enough. Alex was glad either way that she wasn’t around for it and tendered a brief prayer of thanks.

There were only two people who might have an inkling of who had been Snape’s dancing partner. Alex determined that if either asked, an offensive approach would probably be best. She liked her roommates well enough to count them as friends and for most part trusted them, but this wasn’t the type of secret she wanted to share with anyone.

A quick glance in the mirror confirmed Hermione’s remark about her appearance, so Alex took a moment to splash some cool water on her face and redo her ponytail. Afterward, she attended to business before washing her hands. Just as she finished patting them dry, the door to the bathroom opened and her roommates tumbled in.

“I thought that was you back there!” Tess exclaimed. “What are you doing here, girl?”

Jeannie, a tad paler than usual, remarked, “You said you were staying at the school over the holidays.” She was slightly hunched over at the waist.

Alex tried to shrug casually. She could hardly argue that she hadn’t told her roommates exactly that. It had only been this morning that McGonagall been told her otherwise.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t my idea.”

_True,_ Alex told herself.

“Professor McGonagall decided it might be better if I hung out with Granger over the break.”

_Mostly true._

Tess’ eyebrows shot upwards. “Hermione Granger, our resident know-it-all?”

Nodding her head, Alex finished, “McGonagall probably thinks she’d be a good influence on me. Get me to study more or something.”

_Sounds good enough to be true._

“Merlin knows you need the help in Transfigurations, at least according to Jeannie here,” Tess playfully nudged Jeannie who shoved away her roommate’s elbow a little harder than expected.

“More importantly,” Alex began, quickly acting on her hastily made decision of taking the offense, “have either you seen the latest _Herald_?” She held up her copy of the newsletter.

“Who hasn’t?” Jeannie responded, a drop of sweat trickling down the side of her face. “The three of us are on pages two and three.”

Obligingly, Alex opened the _Herald_ up. This time she skimmed over the picture of the Barbie Doll Bitch and located Tess as McGonagall with Angelina in tow. A moment later she spotted the picture of Jeannie with the pair of crew hands that she knew were Fred and George. Under her own picture was the caption, ‘First Challenge of the Night’. It featured Alex successfully blocking Professor Sprout’s spell.

“The real talk is about what’s on the back page,” Tess gossiped. The conspiratorial glance between her and Jeannie was not lost on Alex. “We were wondering …”

_Here it comes. I’m about to find out if they know for a fact it was me or if it’s just a suspicion._

“Wondering what?” Alex contrived to look innocent as she played along.

“Was that you on the back page?” Tess went on hastily to assure Alex. “I mean if it was, you know we wouldn’t tell anyone.”

In response, Alex drew her brows together in a frown. “Of course it was me.” She paused for a few seconds, drawing out the painful silence before continuing. “Where else did you think I found that Draught of Maiden’s Tears?”

Confusion clouded her the faces of her roommates just as Alex had hoped it would. She held up the newsletter and pointed the block of text that dominated the top portion of the page. Announcements were listed on one side, and reminders to check the lost and found bin to the other. Stuck in the middle, right above the picture of her dancing with Professor Snape, was a brief notice about someone having broken in to the remedy supply closet in the Hospital Wing. Several items were reported missing, including an abortifacient.

Alex glanced back at Jeannie and realized Jeannie had one hand splayed across her stomach as if in pain. 

“Hey, you okay?” asked Alex.

Jeannie shook her head slowly. “No.” 

Then the truth dawned on Alex. “You didn’t – damnitall, Jeannie! You were supposed to take that Draught of Maiden’s Tears yesterday.”

“I couldn’t -” Jeannie managed before stumbling to a stall. The sound of her getting sick was loud enough to make Tess and Alex wince.

“She was afraid if she got sick and was sent to the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey would get suspicious that the symptoms matched the missing potion’s side effects,” Tess explained. 

That did little to temper Alex’s irritation. “There’s a reason it’s a Class Three Potion and restricted for use under medical supervision. Worst-case scenario and she had a bad reaction, at least back at school Jeannie would have Madam Pomfrey to help her. Here she’s got who, you? Me?”

Tess just shook her head, sending her tightly curled hair bouncing. “This isn’t the first time Jeannie’s had to take Maiden’s Tears. She always gets nauseous at first, has bad cramps and then it’s over. If anything, I’d say she’s doing better this time out.”

Alex blinked, not sure if she was more surprised that Jeannie had used the abortifacient before or that Tess deemed her current bout of nausea as mild. “Seriously?” 

Jeannie chose that moment to noisily pay tribute of the rest of her breakfast, and perhaps the previous evening’s dinner, into the porcelain throne. 

“Ooookay, if you say so.” Alex smartly let the subject drop. She had only gone out of her way to obtain the potion after finding Jeannie in a panicked state the day after the Masquerade. If Alex could blame the elixir of euphoria for her dance with Professor Snape, then Jeannie could use it to blame for her unprotected post-Masquerade activities with the Weasley twins.

After a few more heaves, Jeannie flushed the toilet and walked back to the sinks. It was only after she had rinsed her mouth out that their conversation continued.

“So, was that you dancing with – what did you use to call him all the time? The Vulture?” Jeannie pointedly asked. 

Alex rolled her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding - does that even look like me?” She shook her head. “Please! If I had danced with Snape, I would have called you out on our little bet instead of promising to pay what I owed.”

She watched Tess tally up the points. “Bloody hell, you’re right. You would have beaten me.”

Relief washed over Alex with those words. By the time Alex left the bathroom and headed back to the compartment, she was sure her roommates had bought her story. Tess had gone so far as to remind Alex how much she owed her for losing the bet. Alex made a mental note to hit Gringotts before returning to Hogwarts. Even though she had technically won their wager, she refused claim her victory or to be in anyone’s debt.

Sliding the door open, Alex found Hermione munching on an apple tart. “Luna’s gone?” Alex asked, relieved the odd Ravenclaw girl had departed.

“Yes, she left with Lee Jordan. He’s apparently started a betting pool as to the identity of Professor Snape’s dance partner.”

_And that’s why you don’t tell some secrets to anyone._

“Are you feeling better? The Trolley witch came by. I bought you some Monthly Comfort.” Hermione held out a steaming cup of tea towards Alex along with another apple tart. 

The unexpected gesture surprised Alex. She had always viewed Hermione as a bit of an irritating know-it-all. Harry obviously trusted her and even Remus had spoken well about Hermione, but Alex had never considered her a friend. 

“I – um - thank you.” Hints of ginger and peppermint wafted from it as she accepted both items. “Really, thanks.” 

“The first day of my cycle is always on the unpleasant side. I find a cup of Comfort helps.”

The tea was well made and sweetened just enough to offset the infusion of ragwort essence. Spotting the Transfigurations book next to Hermione, Alex recalled Tess’ teasing banter about her needing all the assistance she could get on the subject. 

Impulsively Alex asked, “Hey Hermione, do you think you could help me a little with Transfigurations?”

“Of course!”

~ ~ * ~ ~

Alex trotted down the stairs and onto the platform right behind Hermione. The last part of their trip had turned out to be pleasingly productive under the younger Gryffindor’s tutelage. While Hermione claimed she didn’t desire a career in teaching, Alex thought she had the makings of being a solid professor. _Better than ol’ Sourpuss, at any rate._

“Follow me,” Hermione said. “We’re supposed to meet him on the other side of the barrier.”

“Him?” Alex asked.

Hermione either ignored her or failed to hear Alex’s question as she weaved through the crowd of departing students. 

“What barrier?” The words had barely left her mouth when Hermione vanished. After glancing around for a moment, Alex shrugged and walked towards the spot she had last seen Hermione. She stopped short the moment she found herself on the other side of a familiar platform.

Turning in a circle, Alex realized she recognized the place. It had been darker at the time and lacked the current festive decorations, but she had been there before - had met Remus and Sirius right where she was standing. Unlike that lonely night all those months ago, cheerful music was piped in overhead as Muggles packed the place. Most wore smart work clothes under dark coats and carried briefcases. Some also juggled hot drinks or newspapers as they made their way home. 

_No wonder Hermione insisted we change into regular clothes._

“There he is,” Hermione told Alex, pointing to someone with red hair. “Bill!” she shouted as she waved her hand.

A blind person could tell the wizard approaching them was a member of the Weasley family. He had the same red hair and similar, albeit thinner, facial features as the rest of his younger siblings. He greeted Hermione and then turned to Alex. “Bill Weasley. You must be the American our flea-ridden friend talks about.”

Alex snickered at what could only be a reference to Sirius. “Alex Hawk’s Talon,” she said, shaking his hand. “Remind me to get our friend a flea collar for Christmas.”

A faint quizzical expression crossed his face. Then as Hermione laughed and suggested they should also get him a nametag in case animal services mistook him for a stray, Bill smiled as he quickly surmised the two of them must have been referring to something Muggle-related. 

“Well then, if you two are -”

Just then a blond-haired woman neatly attired in a Muggle business suit and black trench coat came striding up. In one gloved hand, she held a disposable cup bearing the mermaid logo of the ubiquitous coffee shop. The mere sight of it made Alex’s mouth water. For months, she had been making due with hot tea.

_I wonder if I can convince Hermione and Bill to let me grab a cup before we leave._

It was only when she noticed the charm bracelet that peeked out from the edge of the woman’s coat sleeve that Alex felt the odd sensation. It was as if the bracelet vibrated, calling attention to itself. Alex barely had time to realize the source of the vibration was magical in nature when the lady opened her mouth.

“For crap’s sake, you’d think you’d be able to find a decent cup of coffee somewhere in London!” she announced in a distinctly American accent as she wrinkled her nose in displeasure. “Ugh! Almost as bad as a mouthful of acromantula.”

Then the woman suddenly smiled having caught sight of Alex. In that moment, Alex forgot about her desire for coffee or the peculiar bracelet. There was a peculiar weight to the woman’s gaze. It whispered that something untamed lurked behind the bright hazel eyes in a way that made Alex instinctively think of Remus. 

_Holy shit, she’s a werewolf._

“Hey kiddo, remember me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from ‘What Was I Thinkin?’ by Dierks Bentley


End file.
